


Monster You Made Me

by Draycarla



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bestiality, Blood, Cultural Differences, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Drugged Sex, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gang Rape, Gore, Group Sex, Hallucinations, Humiliation, Keith is 17, M/M, Medical Trauma, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mind Break, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Physical Abuse, Public Blow Jobs, Self-Harm, Sexual Slavery, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Urination, Violence, adam and keith also aren't the real adam and keith as a heads up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-09 17:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 55
Words: 356,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17410919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: It takes time to break someone, and Shiro is going to be broken and reformed. Given to Sendak to punish by Zarkon due to unknowingly made slights, Shiro has to endure the erosion of his sanity, humanity, and sense of self as he's thrown into a world he doesn't want to be a part of. They, however, want him.





	1. Abduction

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy.
> 
> So this is going to get dark, and fucked up, and I am going to be gross because this is not going to be fluffy in the slightest.  
> Edit: this fic has changed a lot and lo and behold there is indeed shendak 'fluff' even if its basis is in long-term manipulation.
> 
> There is actually a long-term plan with this fic in that it's going to be in two parts, which will be sheithy. I'm currently deciding which way I want it to go because both ways have exciting options to be honest,
> 
> Good news is this chapter is nice compared to the next few I have, so I hope you enjoy it!

“As instructed, I have combed the recesses of it's psyche, and there is nothing noteworthy.”  
“Then it is useless to us. Send it to the arena.” The hooded figure turned to leave.  
“As you command.” The druid bowed low and moved towards the body strapped to the raised table, motioning a sentry to come forward.  
“Hold it in place. Kill it if it shows resistance.” The druid pressed a few buttons on the nearby control panel, and the limp body fell forwards into the arms of the sentry.  
“Take Prisoner 117-9875 to Commander Sendak's ship for transport.” The sentry dragged the body out of the room. Grey eyes flickered open partially, seeing a purple world before them, before closing once more.

 

Shiro groaned as he stirred. It felt like a compactor was pressing down over his body and he didn't want to move. His eyes slowly blinked open, a purple hue surrounding him.  
“Shiro! You awake?” Shiro rolled over. In the corner of the room sat Matt.  
“Matt? What? W-Where are we?”  
“You don't remember? We're on an alien ship. We're prisoners.” Matt pulled his knees closer to his chest and looked at the floor.  
“I haven't seen dad yet either. What do you think they're doing to him? Do you think he's...”  
“I don't know...but we're alive and everything feels fine. I don't think they're going to kill us.”  
“Yet.” Matt pushed himself deeper into the corner and hid his face. Shiro sighed. He was right. Pulling himself up slowly, he groaned, grabbing the side of the slab he was on to steady himself.  
“If they wanted to kill us, we'd be dead by now. Do you remember what they did to you?”  
“Not really. Just being strapped onto something and a prick. I woke up in here, where you're sat.” Matt looked up, scratching at his neck. “You?”  
“I...felt like I was falling at one point and green light. Everything hurts though. My muscles ache.” Shiro carefully massaged his thighs, letting out a soft hiss as he rubbed a little too hard.

 

A strange click, then whirring, and another click broke the silence. Both occupants quickly turned their attention to the door. A blinding purple light shone inwards, and they tried to shield their eyes from the harsh light. Heavy clanking became louder, and the sound of something being dragged in made Shiro curious, and he tried to squint through the light. Two figures; likely a sentry and another body. He tried to get up, but he hissed in agony at the pain in his thighs. As quick as they had entered the room, they were gone. The door swishing shut and clicking.

 

“D-Dad? _Dad_!” Matt scrambled to Sam's side, grabbing his limp body in his arms and cradling him to his chest. He brushed some damp strands of hair off his forehead, before laying him down gently and checking for a pulse.  
“He's alive, Shiro! Dad's alive. He's fine...” Matt grasped Sam's hand, and started to gently rock backwards and forwards repeating 'he's fine' over and over, tears rolling down his cheeks. Shiro smiled weakly; he was relieved they were all back together, but for how long, he didn't know. He'd been trying to remember the 'training' they'd had on Earth, and it didn't feel that it would help in the slightest.

 

-

 

The three humans were dragged half-asleep from their cell and forced to walk at gunpoint through the corridors by the sentries. It had felt like days since Sam had been brought to them, and about as long since they'd eaten or drank anything. Matt was feeling the effects of dehydration the most, and could barely walk in a straight line. He kept slumping against the wall. Shiro wasn't fairing much better himself. The muscle pain was only getting worse since he had no medication, and with each step it felt like someone was punching his kidneys. They finally made it to a large hangar. In there stood more sentries and two aliens in front of a craft; black and purple in design.

 

“You're late.” One of the aliens turned, his skin indigo and small black horns running down his head. Shiro cocked his head to the side, stopping so he could process what was in front of him. He felt something press into his back, before stumbling forward. He wasn't sure how he could understand what the alien had said, but with his pounding headache he didn't want to think too much.

 

“The druids have decided Prisoner 117-9874 be taken to one of the research camps, and Prisoner's 117-9875 and 9876 are for the arena.” The one with horns didn't look at them, and Matt stumbled towards Sam, trying to lean against him for support but losing his balance.  
“Matt!” Sam rasped. He coughed as he dropped to his knees, but unable to help Matt off the floor due to his hands being bound. He glared up at the alien, then turned to the other one. Both stood there, watching, before the other, a very tall alien with two-toned purple fur, drawled out:  
“Is there any reason that you are giving Commander Sendak sick prisoners? What use is that one for the gladiator arena if it cannot stand, and what of the one for the research camps? You've come from the main fleet, you should have basic prisoner supplies.”  
“They're just prisoners. I'm not wasting my limited resources when I have a crew to feed and keep maintained.”  
“A crew of primarily sentries.”  
“Do not disrespect me, _Officer_  Haxus. Unlike you or Commander Sendak, I've earned my spot through hard work and loyal service. Take them and get off my ship, I've a system to return to.” He turned and glared at Matt and Sam as he stalked by, his sentries flanking him.

 

Haxus clicked his tongue and stepped forward.  
“You. Prisoner. Are you and your kind sick?” He stared at Shiro, who slowly shook his head. Haxus sighed.  
“In Galran that gesture is an insult. Speak.” Shiro blinked and tried to create some saliva in his dry mouth. He opened his it, but only air came out.  
“Need...water. Dehydrated. Sick.” Sam had choked out a reply, and pointed to Shiro when he said sick. Haxus stared down at Sam, then back at Shiro and sighed. He turned, addressing the sentries quickly. Shiro stumbled to Sam and Matt, who had managed to roll himself onto his side by this point, although panting heavily.

 

“You will be given liquid and quarantined until cleared. The Commander wants no alien diseases on board. You will comply or face punishment.” Haxus turned and walked towards the ship, and the sentries moved forward, pulling them all up and dragging them into the craft. They were ushered into a small holding cell with an energy field in place of a door. In perhaps a few minutes, they felt the engines rumble to life and the ship move.

 

In no time at all, it came to a halt again and they were all pulled out by the sentries. As they were marched through the hangar, Shiro spotted the tall Galra, Haxus, in conversation with an even larger Galra. Just how big did this race get, he wondered. Perhaps he would have chance to ask, or not. By the sounds of it, he was probably never going to know since him and Matt were the two likely off to the gladiator arena. They were pushed into a small tiled room. It looked sterile; something between a public shower and hospital ward. Shiro stiffened, and looked to Sam who was holding Matt in his arms, glaring warily around the room. Shiro looked up to see what looked like sprinklers. Suddenly, the light dulled and they sprayed hot liquid down.

 

Matt rasped and brought his hands up to protect himself. Sam pushed him into his chest and bowed his head, a pained frown on his face. Shiro threw his hands over his eyes as the liquid, which smelled similar to the antiseptic sprays in a hospital, soaked into his hair, skin and prisoner garb he wore. It wasn't burning, but hot enough to be a shock to the system. Eventually it stopped, and all three stood there, rubbing water out of their eyes or spitting it to the floor. Sam pawed around for the wall, and Matt guided him slowly over to it so he could try and get his bearings.  
“It stings.” Sam hissed as he blinked his eye a few times.

 

A door in front of them opened up, and the group took it as a sign to move forward. Shiro and Matt took one of Sam's arms each, and walked together. It helped to keep them balanced, but the rags they wore felt heavy and moving in anything soaked was uncomfortable as it hugged against their skin. As they entered a second, narrow room, it looked like a giant dryer, similar to ones Shiro remembered in a pool he visited once with Adam when they went on holiday. The fans came to life with a low hum, and soon they were having to brace themselves as warm air hit them from all sides. Their hair blew wildly in all directions, while Matt had to try and ground himself before the fans knocked him over. The temperature in the room was rising as well, and just like the sun in the middle of summer, they dried quick enough.

 

From there they left to find a third room. In it was someone, this time not a sentry, dressed in all red. They were possibly a Galra, judging by their height.  
“There are fluids here. Drink. Sustenance will be provided in due course. You will be taken and checked for all foreign disease and infection within half a varga.” They motioned at the small bottles of liquid on the table. Finding the energy from somewhere, they scrambled for a bottle each. Shiro pulled the cap up by his teeth before taking a sip. He wanted to chug the bottle down, but it wouldn't help him. He took small, slow sips, and felt his throat moisten up. He'd never experienced dehydration before, and this was something he didn't want to experience again.

 

“You, Prisoner 117-9875,” Shiro blinked, pointing at himself.  
“Yes. Follow.” Shiro grabbed another bottle of water and cautiously followed the alien. He looked back at Sam and Matt, who were anxiously watching him. As he followed down a small corridor, he had to blink to adjust to the low light levels. Everything was dark with this strange purple light and he couldn't understand why everything seemed to be the same colour. He could feel his hands become clammy and sipped some more water as they came to a stop.  
“You will be seen. Enter.” Shiro, unsure how to respond, gave a small bow, before quickly entering the room. He regretted it as a sharp pain shot up his right leg. He hissed, grabbing it and dropping his water bottle to the floor.

 

“That can wait. Sit.” The voice sounded old, and Shiro looked over to see a Galra sat at a desk with a hologram projected screen. _This technology_. Shiro wanted to see what it did, but the pale Galra with pinky-white markings just stared at him. He sat down on a cold metal table as the medical officer approached. He took out a small hand scanner and ran it down Shiro's body. His eyes squinted as he possibly read the screen, Shiro wasn't sure since he had no pupils, but grumbled something under his breath.  
“Of course the human has something wrong which they could not fix.” He opened a cupboard and pulled out a long needle, then a vial of some strange, bright white liquid. Shiro pulled himself inwards as the Galra approached.

 

“How'd you know I'm human? How can I understand you?” He eyed the needle nervously.  
“We have been watching your species for millennia gathering information. There is a translator implanted behind your ear. It is universal. Stay still and do not ask questions.” The Galra pulled his right arm out roughly and injected the strange white liquid straight into his artery in his elbow. Shiro hissed in pain as he watched the contents empty from the vial, but then something...felt warm.  
“W-What did you inject? What is this?” He went to shove the Galra away, but was held back by stronger hands.  
“Quintessence-based medicine. You have a disease that is easily curable. We cannot afford it to infect anyone else on the ship.” The tone was so matter-of-fact, like somehow curing his genetic condition was that simple.  
“It's _genetic_. It's not something you can simply cure with one needle of fluorescent liquid.” Shiro rasped, glaring at the Galra in front of him.  
“And I suppose you know so much about Galran medicine, human? Your race is primitive in comparison, but if you wish to believe you are not cured, then think whatever you please. I will not repeat myself again: do not ask questions.” He rose and walked over to his display, typing something down before taking another needle. This was empty.

 

“Other arm. I am taking a blood sample. Afterwards you will strip and I will check your vitals and run a few extra tests. Then you may leave.” He watched Shiro glare at the floor and shrugged. After a few seconds, Shiro raised his left arm. He looked away as the needle went in. Even across the universe these tests were just like home. He wished someone was here with him, like when Adam used to come along with him.

 

After what felt like hours, he was allowed to leave. He pulled the ragged shirt over his head and left without saying a word. He sipped some more water, his cracked lips stinging. The warm feeling that had entered his arm now felt like it was all around his body. It was strange, he felt heavy but in a good way. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. It was all a lie. As he entered the room, he found Matt and Sam still sat there. They rushed to his side, pulling him over to the table with them where a small bowl of purple goo sat. Shiro wrinkled his nose at the sight of it. He couldn't cook, but this looked awful – almost as bad as natto.

 

“What happened? How are you?” Sam placed a hand on Shiro's shoulder while Matt pushed a bottle of water closer to him.  
“It was just like any other medical exam. They took blood – they can scan you with this device and apparently see what's wrong with you. He found out about my condition and...” Shiro coughed a little and took some more water, “he gave me something...quintessence? He called it that. Apparently I'm 'cured'.” He made air quotations with his fingers. Sam looked pensive for a moment before nodding to himself.  
“Do you believe it?” Shiro knew that look.  
“There's a possibility. I'd need to know what this stuff is made of. I know the word, but there's several definitions. I am wary though. It could be something else entirely. I don't know for certain – I mean look where we are.” Sam scooped up some of the goo from his bowl and slowly put it in his mouth, chewing as he remained in thought. Shiro glanced at Matt, who'd barely touched his 'food'.  
“Is it that bad?”  
“It's disgusting. I heaved.”  
“Does it taste like chicken?”  
“No. It tastes like a raccoons ass.” Matt forced a smile but it went when Sam stared at him.  
“Please try and eat a little more. Your mother will kill me.”  
“I'll...try.” He got a tiny spoonful and raised it to his lips. He sniffed it and pulled away. Sam groaned and motioned for him to pinch his nose. Matt whined but conceded. As he placed it in his mouth, his eyes shot open and he turned away from the table, coughing out the goo.

 

“Prisoner 117-9874. You are required.” The attendant in all red appeared in the doorway. Sam sighed heavily as he rose from his seat, taking his bottle with him.  
“Shiro, please try making him eat.”  
“I'll try. Good luck.” Shiro's mouth tugged into a small smile as Sam left, before he returned his attention to the goo.  
“C'mon. Let's try and eat this shit.” Shiro smirked at the forlorn look Matt gave him, and ruffled his hair a little. This warm feeling inside him was somehow making his mood the tiniest bit better.

 

-

 

The cell was silent aside from the soft grunts and sighs of Matt sleeping, finally. He was snuggled against Sam's side, who was absently fiddling with his hair.  
“Shiro? Can I ask you something?”  
“Yeah?” Shiro glanced over at Sam, who just kept stroking Matt's hair.  
“I hate to ask you of this but please; please take care of Matt for me.”  
“You never need to ask me for anything, Sam. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe. Don't talk like you'll never see him again.”  
“Shiro. I don't think we'll be seeing anyone again.” He pushed stray strands of Matt's hair from his face, smiling fondly at the soft features. “I'm proud of him; he's accomplished so much, but I never should have taken him on this mission. Or you. I've sentenced you both to death.” He choked on the last word. “This is the last time I'll see him so peaceful. The last time I'll ever see you. You know, he sees you like an older brother, and honestly,” Sam looked over solemnly, “I've seen you like a second son. I'm sorry I've failed you both.”

 

Shiro opened and closed his mouth, swallowing down a lump in his throat.  
“You've supported me so much since dad died, and been an amazing friend, as well as Colleen and the kids. You've not failed us and you're not a terrible father. Mark my words; I'll keep us both safe and we will find you. We **will** save you.”  
“I appreciate your optimism, but the Commander refuses to see me to defend your cases, and they're dragging me away in who knows how many hours. It's something you have nightmares about, as a parent, outliving your kids. I'm scared for him, for you, and...Colleen and Katie will never know.” Sam's voice cracked. He tried to muffle it, and sniffed to clear his nose.  
“I can't wake him. Not now. Did you know he used to do this when he was ill or wanted me to get him some new gizmo; cuddle up and sleep on me. Then he became a stroppy teenager and hated most of the decisions I made, especially around curfews and tidying his room. Colleen told me when we were away in the Kaiper Belt, Matt and Katie would sit on the roof until the small hours of the morning talking to me. She pretended she didn't know what they were doing.” He smiled and sniffed again.

 

“Sam, please listen. I'll protect him. We'll get you out. I promise.” Sam glanced up to see Shiro with his head bowed low. Sam sighed and opened his other arm out, Shiro crawling over.  
“I love you and Matt like family, and I'm happy I found you all.” Shiro relaxed when Sam pulled him in.  
“I truly hope you can find me.”  
“I'll protect Matt with my life, and will sacrifice it if I can save him.” Shiro reached out and brushed Matt's arm, gaze hard as he took in every detail of his peaceful face. It was probably the last time he was going to see him like this again as well.


	2. Severance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Publishing this a day early because I've a few things to do tomorrow after I finish work, and will likely be tired (I work a physical job in a DIY store where a good half of people don't pull their weight, which leaves me emotionally, physically and mentally drained a good portion of the time). I've checked the chapter about three times and needed to edit some bits/swap some things out for later.
> 
> Having some issues with authors notes btw so I'm deleting the end ones to see if that fixes anything...doing my head in at the moment (Chapter 1's A/N appeared at the end of this chapter as well as chapter 2's and I don't understand why).
> 
> Chapter 3 is in the works and I'll try get it out next week. Thank you for reading though, and for the comments and kudos!

“ _DAD! PLEASE, DON'T TAKE HIM AWAY!” Matt screamed, his voice hoarse and tears rolling down his cheeks as the sentries ripped Sam from his arms._  
“ _It's alright, Matt, I'll be okay. You'll be okay.”  
_“ _NO! Please, please don't take him from me. I beg you.” Matt thrashed himself free of Shiro's grasp and ran at the sentries. One raised it's gun but Matt didn't care. He threw himself at Sam and tried to grab on as tight as he could, but to no avail. He was pulled from his father and thrown to the ground. Shiro managed to catch him, but both smashed their heads against the hard floor._

 

“ _Are you being noisy again?”  
__Matt glared at the Galra they knew as Haxus. He'd stepped into the cell, taking stock of the scene._  
"This prisoner has a place to get to, stop being so aggressive and loud. Take him.” Haxus turned to leave, but before he was out the door Matt screeched again, lunging for Haxus with his shoe. In a flash of purple, Matt's body twisted in mid air and hit the ground with a thud. Shiro scampered over to him, picking him up gently.  
“W-What did you do?” He checked for a pulse, which was there, thankfully. He glared at Haxus, but he was leaving the room along with Sam, staring behind as best he could, mouthing he loved them.

 

Shiro jerked awake, punching the wall accidentally. He swore, clutching his fist and tried to roll over, before realising there was a body pressed against his. Matt had slung an arm over Shiro's waist and was curled in a ball against his back. Shiro delicately lifted his arm up and pushed his body up against the freezing metal wall so he could get out. He perched at the edge, shaking his hand and flexing his fingers. It wasn't his dominant hand, but for what was ahead of them, he needed everything to function; his and Matt's lives depended on it, and he swore to Sam they'd see each other again.

 

“...ro?” He turned to see Matt gazing at him through heavy eyelids.  
“It's fine, I'm here. Get some more rest, okay?” Shiro forced a smile but looked away, eyes focussed on the doors. He'd been waking up, at his guess, roughly an hour before their only meal of the day. He'd never felt this hungry in his life, and was starting to miss Adam's home cooked meals. He could feel his stomach ache and twist and his mouth water, but he slapped himself. He needed to focus. He laid on the floor and put his hands behind his head and lifted his knees. It was a bad idea to exercise on so little food, but he needed to stay physically ready for the fight. Later he'd practice some more moves with Matt when they were alone. He had no idea what these other aliens could do, and from the few he'd seen outside the cell, he didn't want to find out.

 

-

 

“The ship will be entering warp in two dobosh's for the main fleet and Central Command.”  
The aliens around Matt and Shiro paused before scurrying away towards the cells. One, a pale grey alien limped towards them.  
“You'd best hurry back. If they catch you out here they won't hesitate to give you a beating. You two young ones don't need that now.” He coughed, before limping away. Shiro and Matt looked at each other, then followed quickly.  
“Thank you. Let us help you back though.” Shiro helped to steady the alien.  
“Yeah, we don't want you getting beat by the guards.” Matt took his arm on the other side. The alien looked between them, blinking and mouth open, before it curled into a soft smile.

 

“T-Thank you. I don't know where you are going, but I pray good souls like you are not destined for the arena.”  
“We...are.” Matt bit his lip and looked to Shiro, would could only focus on moving forwards.  
“That's a shame. There's a dozen of us going in for today. Some are going to be servants, others...well. I am Xi. You?”  
“I'm Matt, and that one there is Shiro. We're humans, from the planet Earth.”  
“Thank you, Matt and Shiro.” Xi made a small smile before pointing to his door, “now go, before they find you.”  
“We will.” Shiro guided Matt away and pulled him back towards their block. He had a rough idea where it was from here, and couldn't afford either of them being caught.

 

-

 

Matt and Shiro stared up at the high ceilings. _This was Central Command?_ Shiro thought, trying to guess the height of the room.  
“Keep moving. The arena floor needs a new coat of paint.” The guard, this one an actual Galra, shoved Shiro forward. He stumbled but glared back at her. She clicked her tongue, and grabbed his face easily with one hand.  
“Look at me like that again, and your entrails will smeared all over this floor. Understand, Terran?” Shiro bit his tongue as he moved onward, Matt quickening his pace to walk besides Shiro. “It's ok,” Shiro murmured to him. “We'll get out of here. I'll keep you safe. We'll win and get our freedom, just like it was back on Earth.”  
“Shiro, I'm worried, you look tired and...and we've barely been sleeping.”  
“We'll be fine, Matt. Remember, patience yields focus.” Shiro repeated the latter a few times. It was a mantra his mother had taught him as a child, and one of the few things he still remembered from all those years ago. Shiro wondered if he would remember her face before he died.  
“Hey...how's your muscles been? You've not been saying about the pain much the past week.”  
“I guess you're right.” Shiro frowned. That was a fair point actually.

 

-

 

“Prisoners are such a pain.” Haxus flopped down in his seat next to Sendak in the private box.  
“What happened this time?”  
“Usual. One of the Terrans, the quiet one, acted up.” Haxus placed his drink on the side next to him and stretched. “One would think that with military backgrounds they wouldn't be so stupid.”  
“Their military is clearly lacking in discipline.” Sendak ran a hand through his fur. “It matters not. They're fighting Myzax today so it is going to be over in half a varga anyway.” He sniffed and took the flute next to him, sipping from it while flicking through his tablet. “Have you seen the odds?”  
"Oh yes. I placed a little bet actually.” Haxus grinned and pulled out his own tablet, showing Sendak what he'd bet. Sendak choked on his drink, spluttering into his hand while Haxus cackled to himself.

 

“Little? That is a phoeb of your salary. What possessed you to make such a absurd bet?”  
“Remember the last one I won? The one where the odds were against that Nirynian?”  
“That is a poor basis to make such a large bet. I am not bailing you out next phoeb.” Sendak pushed the tablet away. “I admit if you are victorious, I will be purchasing it. If anything can defeat Myzax, I imagine half of the commanders will want it.”  
“What about Emperor Zarkon?” Haxus fiddled with his claws, occasionally looking back at his tablet screen.  
“The Emperor has little interest in collecting gladiators these quintants. He gave his last two to Ranveig for his services.” Sendak spat the name and Haxus chuckled.  
“At least he isn't here, Commander. Will the Emperor be making an appearance?”  
“He will. We will be meeting afterwards to discuss a few things. You will be attending as well.” Sendak smirked and Haxus arched an eyebrow.  
“What's the occasion? I'm not a Commander or of merit.”  
“We will discuss it later, _Lieutenant_. I will be back in a few ticks.” With that, Sendak rose and left the box. Haxus blinked and mouthed _Lieutenant_ a few times.

 

-

 

The arena was huge and the chatter of the spectators unbearable. Matt backed as close as he could to Shiro, but he was at the front of the queue, Shiro right behind him. Two sentries stood in front of them, holding strange swords. The other aliens around him were silent or muttering to themselves; praying to a god or for it to be quick death. Shiro wanted to run, just grab a blade and escape, but there was nowhere to go.  
“It's going to be alright, Matt, you'll be okay.”  
“I won't, Shiro! I'll be dead in under a minute. Maybe more if I have the nerve to run!” Matt snapped, his voice catching as he grabbed his shoulders and crouched down. “I'm a dead man; I'm a dead man walking.” Matt fell to his knees, rocking back and forth as he dug his nails into the fabric of his prisoner's garb.  
“Matt, please...you need to stay strong. This is how they win. They want to break you,” Shiro went to crouch beside Matt, but was stopped by a blade coming down in front of him.  
“Halt. Remain in your position until instructed.” The sentry held the blade in place, before Shiro backed away to his position.

 

“All rise for Emperor Zarkon, may he reign for ten thousand more deca-phoebs! Accompanying him is the High Priestess, Haggar. May she continue to provide the Empire with more powerful quintessence! Without further ado, let the Emperor's Games continue!"  
There was a resounding roar around the arena as the announcer continued, "this movement, we have Myzax, the Galactic Gladiator and our Champion, in one-on-one fights with these universal terrors. Will our Champion be defeated by one of these newcomers, or will the Galra's supreme Champion continue his reign? Let Myzax enter the ring!” The announcer, an overly energetic young Galra, pointed at the door on the far side of the arena. It opened painfully slowly, and when he saw it, Matt wished his vision had never been corrected. His heart pounded in his chest and he shook in fear, a cold sweat coming on far too quickly. He wanted Shiro to hold him, but he was still being watched like a hawk.

 

“...Matt, a Terran or 'Earthling' – a new species to the arena – will be fighting Myzax first. Will this deranged...attacked the Galra, live, or die?” Shiro's eyes widened as he caught bits of what the announcer was saying. Lies. Of course, the Galra had attacked them, but no, Matt couldn't go first. He just couldn't. He was already falling apart and this was it.  
“I'm not gonna make it. I'll never see my family again!” He could only stay rooted on his knees as the sentry approached, offering out the sword.  
“Matt, you can do this.”  
“I-I-I...” His voice cracked and he looked back to Shiro, eyes wide with terror. He shook as a sharp sob came out. Shiro screwed his eyes shut. He couldn't stand it any more, he was angry that he couldn't do anything, he was angry they were going to die, he was angry at it all.

 

He jumped clean over Matt and with all the force he could muster, pulled the sword from the sentry, turning and screaming he bared down on a stunned Matt.  
“If you won't fight, I will. This is my fight!” Shiro roared as he brought the curved blade up high. Matt screamed out as he tried to push himself away, but was too slow. The blade connected with his leg, blood splattering on to Shiro's face as he heard it hit the bone. Shiro lunged for Matt,  
“I want blood, anyone's blood!” He trapped him beneath his weight. Matt was sobbing as he tried to move away from Shiro.

 

“W-W-What?”  
“Take care of your father. I said I'd save-” Shiro was pulled away and pushed towards the arena, blade in hand. Matt watched him square up to the sentry before turning his attention to Myzax as he entered the opposite side. He felt metal hands grab him and then something was injected into the side of his neck. His vision petered out quickly, and the roar of the crowd died to silence.

 

-

 

“What is all that noise about over there?” Haxus squinted down to where the prisoners stood, and Sendak leaned out of his seat to see what had caught his attention.  
“Oh. Just a reckless one. Nothing new.” Sendak shrugged, reckless lambs to the slaughter was something he'd always seen, and this one screeching away was no different. He didn't care for these pests, but at least they could have a _somewhat_ honourable death through combat.

 

“Oh, did you see? The big one, the one I placed a bet on, just attacked the small one, you know, the screechy one!” Haxus laughed, smacking his leg as the small one writhed on the floor in his own blood as the larger one was pulled off him. “They seem to be quite an odd race! I've had no issue really from the big one or the other we dropped off, but look at it now. So _barbaric_.” Haxus wiped at his eye, still laughing as a sentry pulled Shiro off and pushed him towards the arena. Sendak watched quietly, eyes narrowed as he tried to work out how long the match would last.

 

The announcer, now a bit confused, tried to bring order, but it was a loud, sharp voice that caught everyone's attention. Zarkon was stood in his royal box, staring down at the arena. He narrowed his eyes at Shiro; scrutinising him on the sands below. Zarkon didn't know who this prisoner thought they were, and nor did he care, but what he did take issue with was this creature disrupting order.  
“If this dreck wants blood, then let the fight commence. Vrepit Sa.” He settled back down, and rested his chin upon his hand as Myzax charged. This little Earthling would learn the meaning of pain soon.

 

Shiro fell more than dodged to the side as Myzax brought his fist down. He scrambled to get some distance from the gladiator. As he was in mid-jump over a rock, something electrocuted him from behind. He screamed out and his body twisted as he landed hard on his arm. He swore and picked himself back up, looking around for what hit him. Myzax was stood metres away, how did he...? He screamed again as his legs were taken out from behind, the electrocution just as painful as before. He fell to his hands and knees, panting hard. Shiro's head bolted up to see a purple orb return to the Myzax's stick, and he realised it wasn't a type of mace. Myzax laughed as he threw his arm forward, the orb flying for his face. Shiro flung his arms forward, the energy prickling as it teased across his spine. He rolled through the sand and scrabbled to his feet, flinging himself behind one of the pillars for reprieve.

 

He gulped air into his lungs, body poised to make another leap to the ground, but the energy ball didn't come right away. He couldn't attack the arm, there was a pauldron in the way, and he was muscular and tall. No wonder he was the champion. Using the blade, Shiro tried to get a reflective read on where Myzax was now.  
“Found you!”  
His right. Shiro swerved away from the pillar but was gut-punched. He coughed and doubled over. Myzax grinned and thrust the wand forward again, the orb flying off and hit him in the face. Launched again across the arena, Shiro skidded to a halt, arms splayed out and body aching. He could feel the hot air against his bare skin and something damp. He clenched his teeth together. _Focus, get in close_. He pulled himself up to find Myzax charging again and leaping up. Shiro braced for the impact and raised the sword, the flat edge catching his mighty fist. The bladed edges cut into Shiros skin, but he held his ground.

 

Myzax straightened himself out and raised his wand, arm by his side as Shiro glared up. An opening he'd been waiting for. Screaming, Shiro slashed the sword sideways into Myzax's unprotected inner thigh. The monster screamed out in rage and swung the energy ball down, but it caught part of Shiro's shoulder instead as he went down to the left. Shiro rolled the opposite way, crouching low to the ground so he could dip and dive as he needed to. He went to hack again at the other side of the injured leg, but Myzax grabbed the sword. Shiro's eyes widened in shock as he was lifted clean from the ground and thrown across the arena. There went his plan of keeping close.

 

As Shiro hit and bounced off the ground, body rolling until it hit one of the other pillars, the crowd let up a mighty cheer. Shiro struggled to pull himself up and blinked his vision back, he let out a pained shriek as the orb connected with his ribs. He flopped forward onto his stomach, panting heavily as the orb flew back, before Myzax aimed it again at him with a frenzied roar. All he could do was try to block it. Raising his sword and bracing himself, the orb struck the blade. Instead of electrocuting him like he thought, it bounced back. Myzax roared again as it landed back in the wand, and for the first time Shiro realised what it was doing.

 

Three times. He could only throw it three times. He had to get closer; he'd injured his opponent so he wouldn't be moving much, and the green blood that oozed from his leg was staining his body suit. Bracing was hard, and he knew he couldn't keep it up long. He had to get back into close range again. He crouched again and through the burning pain in his ribs and lungs, he ran to some rock cover. The orb was thrown. _Defend_. He changed his stance, ready to brace, and held out the flat of the blade so the ball deflected off. He leapt over rocks and was now in the open. _Defend._ This one took a bit more to resist. His leg buckled and he coughed as the force sent sand into his face. He then ran to Myzax's left. _Defend_. His knuckles were white around the handle and his hand hurt badly. His whole body was sweating.

 

This was it. Twisting the blade around, he roared as he ran forward, chasing the orb. Myzax saw him coming and twisted his body left. Just what Shiro wanted. As the orb re-entered the charging zone, Shiro feinted right as Myzax brought his fist down. He slashed the blade again along the outer thigh, then grabbing the strap of the pauldron, used it to swing himself around so he was behind his opponent.  
“Gotcha.” Shiro snarled as he thrust the blade deep under the right shoulder blade, completely unprotected. The wand fell almost instantly from Myzax's hands, which should have meant the fight was over.

 

 _No_. Shiro slashed the back of Myzax's other leg over and over. He backed away as he fell forward, bellowing out in pain. This creature had killed fuck knows how many prisoners like him, Matt and Sam. He had to make sure he could never harm either of them. Shiro circled the creature, eyes wild. He stabbed his sword through the right hand twice, then using his foot, kicked the elbow joint hard until he tried to roll it away. Then he struck through the tendons.

 

The cry of pain that went through the arena was ear splitting, but the blood pumping in Shiro's ears had drowned it all out now as he stood beside his head. He lowered the blade and hooked the curved front under his chin. Myzax roared and tried to roll away, but only had one stubby arm that couldn't reach Shiro. Ignoring Myzax's struggles and thrashes, Shiro lined the blade along where at least humans had their carotid arteries. He pressed the blade as hard as he could, straining himself as he made sawing motions to cut deeper into the skin. Myzax's roars became more and more garbled as Shiro sawed.

 

“My Lord, may I request the body once the prisoner is done with it.”  
“For your experiments, Haggar?”  
“Yes. He has served the Empire well enough, so will be given a special reward. If I may, can I request that the prisoner not remove his head. It would make the experiment more time consuming.”  
“Very well.” He rose from his seat to the hacking coughs of Myzax's last breaths, and the prisoner's laughter as green blood soaked through his uniform. The crowd, bar the few extra bloodthirsty, was watching in silence or hushed whispers. The prisoner had not awaited permission to slay the reigning Champion. This was the second offence against him today.

 

“Myzax is no more.” His voice broke Shiro from his sawing. He blinked a few times at his hands. At the green. The body, he looked around him at the small pools of blood and broke out into shakes. There was some of his own droplets about the place. His back stung, his body hurt. The smell. Shiro backed away, tripping over Myzax's bloody hand. He coughed. Then coughed again and spat blood to the floor.

 

“The newcomer has shown disrespect to your Emperor on this quintant. Would you have him destroyed?” A large cheer went up around the room. Shiro's head whipped at the masses around him. But he'd won? He'd done what he had to. He crawled through the sand towards Zarkon's box.  
“Or would you rather I spare it so he can continue to entertain?” Zarkon's lips pulled into a smirk as he watched the prisoner squirm beneath him, reaching his hand towards the box on his knees. A larger cheer went up around the arena, and Zarkon raised his clawed hand.  
“Prisoner. Rise.” Shiro rose through pure intimidation as he felt those strange eyes bore through his soul.  
“The arena has decided on this quintant you will survive. You will take the mantle of Champion until it is stripped of you through honourable death by combat.” He turned his gaze towards the announcer.  
“We will continue the games tomorrow. The new Champion needs servicing.” He turned on his heel and made for the exit, Haggar in pursuit.

 

Shiro dropped to his knees as it felt like the weight of the universe was lifted. He wasn't fully aware what was happening when he was taken under each arm and whisked away through a dark corridor, or the soft prick of an injection against the side of his neck.

 

-

 

“Oh, what a glorious day, Commander!” Haxus purred jovially as he watched the GAC transfer to his account. “No more tedious Myzax, the little Terran is actually a barbaric savage, and I do recall someone saying they'll be purchasing him?” Haxus rested his face in the palm of his hand, slyly grinning at Sendak. Sendak grunted as he rubbed his eyes.  
“Yes, yes, I said I would. The bids are already ridiculous...how much GAC does Morvok have?” Sendak squinted at the screen and hissed. “That is it. Don't ever tell me I don't spoil you.”  
“I won't, Commander. Shall I buy you dinner tonight?”  
“You can buy me dinner for the rest of the phoeb.” Sendak bit as he placed his bid. “We should get ready to see the Emperor.”  
“I thought he was going to kill the prisoner, you know.” Haxus collected the glass flutes and set them on the side together.  
“The Emperor?” Sendak pushed the tablet into his pocket.  
“Yes. It feels he rarely ever gives votes.”  
“That is because nothing has changed in deca-phoebs.” Sendak checked the time and motioned for Haxus to walk with him. “He does enjoy new blood. I am sure though that he will get someone to make that prisoner pay. I would relish it, and plan to if I win him, but it probably will not be until tomorrow now.”  
“Don't break him like the last one,” Haxus said. “I will still be placing bets on him if you buy him.”  
“He would be my property, Haxus.” Sendak reminded him as they reached the hallway to the throne room. Sendak quickly checked the time again and gave Haxus a once over. “Stand to attention.” Sendak ordered. Haxus obeyed without hesitation, and Sendak hummed his approval. “Let us go.”

 

As the two Galra entered the chamber, Zarkon motioned for his guards to leave them in peace. Both Sendak and Haxus proceeded to the base of the throne and bowed down upon their knees.  
“Emperor Zarkon, we are grateful that you are able to see us.” Zarkon looked between them, and motioned for them to stand at ease.  
“Sendak, you do not need to be as formal.”  
“You are my Emperor and my master, I wish to show you my continued respect.”  
“You show that by being my trusted right hand. Now, this is your charge, Officer Haxus?” Zarkon looked Haxus up and down.  
“Y-Yes, Emperor Zarkon, I am a humble officer aboard Commander Sendak's prison ship.” Haxus instinctively dropped to his knees, head bowed low to the floor. Zarkon's laugh was a deep rumble, but still cold.

 

“Stand, Officer. Sendak, you say he is ready for the role of Lieutenant?”  
“I do, Sire.” Sendak replied, his eyes locked with Zarkon's. A small smile tugged at their Emperor's lips as he learned back in his throne.  
“As your Commander is organised, I have received all the necessary information. Your intelligence gathering from prisoner observation and recording has assisted the Empire quashing rebellion. How you have been able to use cyber warfare has also pleased me during your attack on Xukran six phoebs ago. Shutting down the planet's weapon and shield systems was critical in their defeat.” Zarkon rose from his throne and took a step forward. “You rise from the rank of Officer to Lieutenant, and will remain in the service of Commander Sendak.”

 

A smile graced Haxus's lips as he bowed lower, head kissing the polished floor. “I live to serve you, my Emperor. Vrepit Sa!”  
“Vrepit Sa!” Zarkon boomed back. Haxus looked to Sendak, who gave him one of those knowing expressions. They'd served together for hundreds of deca-phoebs, and Haxus knew he was at best, carrying Sendak back to his quarters on-site tonight after heavy drinking celebrating this.  
“Lieutenant, I need to discuss some business with the Commander. You are dismissed.” Haxus nodded, and gave another bow and salute before quick marching from the room. As the doors slammed shut behind him, Zarkon exhaled loudly.

 

“This quintant has been bothersome.”  
“Are you referring to the Terran?”  
“I am. I was not made aware their species had space-faring capabilities powerful enough to carry them to the edge of their system. Commander Krovag will be reassigned for his negligence.” Zarkon's voice rumbled darkly.  
“A wise decision. Would you like the Terran disposing of? It is Prisoner 117-9875, who currently resides aboard my ship-”  
“Does it? Was there any reason why the dreck was not instructed on proper arena etiquette?” Zarkon's eyes narrowed and for the first time in deca-phoebs Sendak was worried by the look in his old teacher's eyes.  
“W-Well there are members of the prison ship whose job this falls to.”  
“I do not wish to hear superfluous excuses. You will punish your crew as expected, and as for you, aside from remaining with the main fleet for the next deca-phoeb, you will also be tasked with personally training, disciplining, and punishing the new Champion. The dreck has offended me, and I demand compliance. I do not care how you do it, but you will make it happen. This,” and Zarkon's lips pulled themselves up into a small smirk as he watched Sendak squirm under his gaze, "is your punishment."  
“I-I am sorry that I have failed you. I will seek to right these mistakes.” Sendak dropped to his knees, glaring at the floor.

 

Heavy footsteps crept slowly closer and the ground around him was submerged in shadow. “Rise.”  
Sendak rose to look Zarkon in the face.  
“You are my trusted right hand and I am hard on you because you overcome all trials I put in your path. Now go. The Champion, if he can live through tomorrow, needs educating.” Zarkon patted his shoulder, and Sendak saluted his Emperor, before turning about-face and swiftly moving for the exit.


	3. Humiliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original plan for chapter 3 didn't actually /go/ to plan. I'm 14 pages in and still not done, and so decided to split it at the point that made most sense. It's actually taking more time then I thought, but that's totally fine (more content for you guys!).
> 
> Thank you again for the kudos and comments ^^ I really appreciate them!
> 
> As the title suggests, there's going to be humiliation. I'll need to update the tags but it will involve urination, as a warning.

Shiro led on the freezing floor of his cell, gaze unwavering from the dark grey wall in front of him. He could lay on the slab or under the thin blanket he'd been given, but the coldness helped him stay awake. He didn't want to sleep; not after what he had done earlier. He growled, hitting his head hard enough against the floor to make his ears ring and pain sharply branch out. The flashes of memory that came back made him feel sick, he'd tried sawing at an alien's neck like it was a tough piece of beef. He'd not been told where Matt was: either no one knew or would talk to him. The other prisoners had steered clear of him and kept as far as they physically could on the ride back to the ship. He couldn't blame them.

 

Something clicked and light flooded the room. He moaned, rolling over as footsteps approached.  
“The Commander has requested your presence. Up.” The guard, this one a Galra, kicked him hard in the back, making Shiro grunt and hiss. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet and was grabbed, his arms pulled together and wrists bound in biting metal restraints. “Move.”  
Shiro growled and reluctantly walked forward, purposefully slow. The guard shoved him through the door. “Commander Sendak isn't in the mood for your meandering feet.”  
“Tell me where Matt is and then I'll walk faster.” Shiro bit back. There was a few seconds before Shiro received the guard's response; a kick to the back of the knees. Shiro fell forward, his face hitting the metal floor with a crack. He yelped in pain, rolling to his side and swearing as he felt blood pour from his nose. The guard said nothing as he grabbed Shiro's shirt and dragged him past the others' cells. Hushed whispers followed him out of the hallway.

 

-

 

“Raglog, why is the Champion being dragged through the ship like a common prisoner?” Haxus stepped almost cat-like around Raglog, leaning down to see the blood pouring from Shiro's offset nose. “And can you confirm why he is bleeding?” Haxus placed his arms behind his back, stepping over Shiro and circling back around to scrutinise Raglog.  
“He fell over his own feet. I'm not sure why you care, or why you're talking to me like a superior.” Raglog pushed past Haxus, dragging Shiro behind him.  
“Well.” Shiro saw the simpering look on his face. “I have been made Lieutenant by the Emperor himself. The Commander recognised my skills and talents. So let me ask you again, why is he bleeding?” Shiro felt the grasp on his shirt tighten and he looked up.

 

“I-Well, you see he was being non-compliant, sir, and so I had to use force.” There was a pause until Haxus sighed. “You could have said earlier. I'm sure all will be forgiven by the Commander, if he's in a good mood. Last time I checked he wasn't.”  
“What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?”  
“Give me the Champion so I can take the Commander his property.”  
“You oily bastard!” Shiro snapped, glaring at Haxus and pulled sharply forward. “I belong to _none_ of you.” Raglog grabbed his shoulders to keep him back. “I-I-I had no idea!” Raglog glanced down at Shiro and bit his lip.  
“The Emperor decided this. Now, let me take him and grab a vial from Ulaz's office before we get to the Commander's quarters.” Haxus strode over and placed a hand in Shiro's hair. His nails dug into his scalp. Raglog saluted and bolted down the hall, leaving Shiro in Haxus's 'care'.

 

“Do you know where Matt is?” He finally asked, swallowing down his anger.  
“Hm? Who's that?”  
“The one who was supposed to fight first.” Shiro clenched his teeth.  
“Oh the one you attacked in your blood frenzy. I wouldn't know. Then again...I could get you that information.” Haxus grinned as he dug his nails in tighter. Shiro bit his lip, trying to ignore the taste of blood that ran down his face. “What's the price?” He pushed his head back, ignoring the pain to glare up at Haxus. The Galra didn't look at him, and his face was obscured at an angle so he couldn't get a read either. “That depends.”  
“On what?”  
“On what happens tomorrow.” Haxus's voice was steady, but before Shiro could ask anything else, Haxus yanked his head back so it was almost touching the floor. He crouched down, his strange yellow eyes narrowed. “You are going to learn very quickly, little Terran, that questions tend to annoy the Galra. You do as commanded. The same,” he slowly ran a long finger over Shiro's bloody lips and looked at it curiously, “comes from talking back to your superiors. Which we are in all ways.” Haxus licked the blood from his finger and smirked down. Haxus pulled himself up and watched as Shiro struggled to roll over onto his side, and then slowly to his front. He forced the side of his face into the metal floor, and pushed himself at least onto his knees, panting heavily as the blood dripped to the floor.

 

Raglog sprinted around the corner carrying a needle with that same bright liquid as before. He skidded to a halt in front of Haxus, panting as he shown him what he had found. “Ulaz...said...to use this. Inject it...in his nose.” He held out the needle and Haxus plucked it from his fingers. He glanced at it before turning to Shiro with a small grin on his face. “Hold him, Raglog.”  
“Understood!” Raglog ran behind Shiro and put him in a tight headlock. Not enough to choke him, but enough to make his body tense up. “This shouldn't hurt.” Haxus purred as he traced the needle down past Shiro's eye and then pressed it tentatively against the side of his nostril. Shiro held his breath and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt those sharp claws squeeze his cheeks, force his head up and the needle brush against the inside of his nose before stabbing into the skin. He let out a hoarse yell, his face falling forward when he was released. The Galra above him laughed, smacking his shoulder with enough force to bruise.

 

-

 

“Explain your lateness, Rag-” Sendak looked up from his terminal to see Haxus and the Champion. He narrowed his eyes, stalking over and pulling Haxus to the side. “Where is that dreck, Raglog?”  
“I relieved him of his duty. He was roughing up your property, as you can see.” Haxus jabbed a claw towards Shiro's face, which was covered in another coat of partially dry blood. Sendak snarled and smashed the large prosthetic arm of his into the wall. “I do not need these insubordinations!” He shut the holographic screen down and stalked over to his terminal.

 

“He's had quintessence.” Haxus shifted uneasily on his feet.  
“You are dismissed.” Sendak waved him away as he stalked towards Shiro, planted firmly on the spot and eyeing the prosthetic hand. Sendak slowly circled him like he was a prize bull at the county faire. He swallowed and kept his back rigid, more so when his restraints were taken off.  
“Do you know who I am?”  
“You're the Commander.” Shiro kept his eyes focussed on the wall to keep his eyes from roaming.  
“My name?”  
“Commander Sendak.” He swallowed again. He couldn't show him any weakness.

 

Sendak purred to himself as he stopped in front of Shiro. “These are the type of responses I approve of from a slave.” He watched as Shiro shifted from one foot to the other. “I have...been made aware of my circumstances. Permission to speak freely?”  
“Not granted.” Sendak turned away and settled on the large sofa in his quarters, watching the Champion for any tells. In his many millennia of being alive, there was universal body language, he had found. At this point he was waiting for a rebuttal; polite or not, it would come.

 

“I don't understand.” There it was.  
“I did not give you permission to speak.”  
“And what are you going to do?” Shiro snapped. “Beat me? Kill me? Some other twisted torture?” He took a step forward, fists clenched tightly. Sendak's gaze drifted between his face and fists. “Do you honestly think you can intimidate me? Go on, strike me.” Sendak tilted his head to the side as he leered at Shiro, gently tapping his cheek. With a throaty growl, Shiro launched himself at the arrogant alien, right arm drawn back and body curving slightly as he threw his punch. It connected with his jaw.

 

Sendak let out a low, slow laugh. It rumbled in the air and vibrated in Shiro's stomach. He kept laughing as he slowly, but firmly, grabbed Shiro's wrist with ease between metal claws, applying more pressure and watching his face contort with pain as it only increased. He continued laughing as he pushed himself off the sofa, sharp fangs glinting in the purple light as he bore down on Shiro. “Did you think that hurt?” Shiro opened his mouth to answer, but a small, almost inaudible, whine escaped his lips in the place of words. “Answer me.” Sendak coolly asked, raising his regular arm and placing it around Shiro's throat, pulling him up and letting go of his wrist. “I-I-I don't know.”  
“I do not appreciate dishonesty.” Sendak squeezed tighter.  
“N-No.” Shiro grabbed at the huge forearm, trying to dig his nails in but getting nowhere through the thick fur. His vision hazed over and he choked, his hands scrabbling faster and eyes darting between them and Sendak. Finally he was dropped to the floor. It was plush compared the the cold steel everywhere else. He panted, looking up to Sendak for any clues as to what the Commander might do next. Those yellow eyes had a predatory gleam about them.

 

Sendak knew this is why Zarkon gave him the Champion; to make him learn to temper himself. He couldn't just kill the Champion because of the social repercussions of killing a gift from the Emperor, and he couldn't beat the shit out of him before his fight – it would be an dishonourable death due to sustained injuries. It limited his options, at least for now. He growled out as he sunk his claws into Shiro's hair, and dragged him to his feet a few paces away from the terminal.

 

“I have more pressing matters than training a new slave right now, so this will be a small part of your punishment, depending on the outcome of tomorrows matches.”  
“M-Matches?” Shiro's mouth went dry and his stomach knotted.  
“Oh? Since you killed our reigning Champion, you took the mantle by right of victory. You will be fighting the other prisoners tomorrow, likely killing them as well-”  
“I don't want to kill anyone else! They've done nothing!”  
“It is not up to me, only the Emperor – the one who gave you to me.” Sendak's tone was turning terse; and Shiro tried to swallow his own feelings down before he gave himself away.

 

Sendak settled down in his seat and turned back on his terminal. “If the Emperor had wanted you dead. You would be. Emperor Zarkon is the most powerful being in the universe, and has lived for over ten thousand deca-phoebs. You have insulted him, and as his right hand,” he watched as Champion's face paled and a bead of sweat ran down his cheek, “it is my job to put you in your place. You should be honoured he has punished you so lightly, and that I am your new master. There are many commanders who would not treat you with respect.” He chuckled as Champion snorted. “You do not know anything of the Galra. You will, in time.” He typed in his credentials. “I have work to do. You are to stand at attention until you are dismissed, or I speak to you. You must also memorise that you cannot act within the arena without the express permission of the Emperor. The fight starts after he shouts Vrepit Sa, and when you have your opponent in an incapacitated position, a fist on the wall of his box means execution, and a wave of his hand means the prisoner is spared. Can you comprehend this?” Sendak rubbed his eyes as he fiddled about looking for a document he was reading earlier. Champion chewed his lip, “what happens if I choose to not comply?”  
“Then I would shut that noisy mouth myself.” Sendak gazed up and down Champion's body as he said it, noting him tense up. “It seems you are not totally naïve to what duties slavery includes.”  
“We're different species.”  
“So? You are a slave, an object if you will. Now silence.” Sendak turned his attention to the screen, ears twitching as he heard the Champion's breath hitch to say something. He didn't.

 

Sendak's huge prosthetic arm leisurely dangled over the side of his chair as he flicked through a holographic interface. Shiro shifted uneasily from one foot to another; he could feel his bladder tighten and press against his abdomen. He'd been questioned on and off for give or take the last hour and a half about arena etiquette, earning small approving noises from Sendak each time he answered correctly. He tried to resume his rigid position, but as the seconds trickled by, the more painful his bladder became. He let out a soft hiss and tried to relieve the pain with slow, deep breaths. He watched Sendak's bat-like ears twitch and a feeling of dread compounded itself on top of the bladder pain.

 

Another ten or twenty minutes passed until Shiro couldn't maintain his position any longer. He crossed his leg over the other and tensed his muscles the best he could. He let out a low whine, which finally prompted Sendak to look over at him. “Why are you making noise and doing that?”  
“I need to...” Shiro hesitated, hair falling in front of his face as he bowed in shame, “use the toilet. Please, it hurts.” Shiro pleaded, looking up through his hair. Sendak studied him for what felt like forever until he replied. “No. You are to stay there at attention silently.”  
“I can't! If I do I'll fucking piss myself!” Shiro snapped desperately back, clutching at his abdomen. “Then soil yourself. You can clean it up with that mouth of yours after.” Sendak turned in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. “B-But...”  
“No buts. If you so desperately need to go then go. You will, however, remain where you are stood.”

 

Shiro stared hard at the floor. This was humiliating, and Sendak knew it. He refused to let himself break and tried clenching his muscles again. The pain shot through him and he hissed, grabbing his sides and sinking down to his knees. He heard Sendak rise from his chair and winced as he felt him approach, casting a looming shadow. Shiro didn't dare look up, but didn't have a choice when a boot pushed him by the shoulder with ease onto his back. His legs filled with a sharp pain as they were trapped under his own weight, and then he felt it; his muscles relaxed. “No...” he whined, covering his face with his hands as he felt his the fabric around his crotch become warm and soggy. He let out an undignified whimper as his bladder emptied and Sendak just stood watching, expression unreadable.

 

Slowly Sendak raised his foot from Shiro's shoulder. He remained awkwardly on the floor, peeking through his fingers. “You can put that mouth of yours to work.” He nudged Shiro with the clawed boots, the points digging in between his ribs. Carefully, he moved onto his front, making sure his thighs were as far apart as possible so they could try to dry. It wouldn't happen quickly but he couldn't afford chafing if he was to continue fighting. He pushed himself to his knees and carefully studied Sendak, “what do you mean?”  
“Clean up your urine. With your mouth.” Sendak pointed to the dark patch where Shiro had been pushed down. Shiro grimaced at the patch. “You want me to lick your carpet clean?”  
“Yes. You dirtied it, so you can clean it.” Sendak grabbed Shiro by the fringe with his prosthetic hand and forced his face down. “Lick.” He pushed his face deeper into it and Shiro retched at the smell. He wasn't totally dehydrated, but he wasn't drinking as much as he should. He tried to breathe through his teeth, but the pressure on his scalp was unbearable, and he could feel his hairs slowly being pulled out. He hit his hand against the carpet and Sendak released. He mentally steeled himself as he pressed his tongue against the material and took a tentative lick. He could feel his tongue dry out almost immediately; the fabric was rough and he could swear it felt like it had fluff stuck to his tongue. He scraped his nails along it, trying to get rid of the feeling before wiping it into his thigh. Sendak pushed his face back down again. “Stop delaying and do your job.” He growled, jabbing Shiro again with his boot. Shiro's body jerked, and squeezing his eyes shut, he licked the carpet again with more urgency; the quicker he did it, the quicker it would be over.

 

Seemingly pleased that he was following orders, Sendak released the grip on his hair and padded back to his chair. Shiro glimpsed up quickly between licks and loured at him, before taking a shallow breath and returning to the carpet. He felt sick from the taste of his own urine and from the action itself. He wasn't sure if the alien realised his attempt to humiliate Shiro was blatant, and that in doing this would make him resentful, or whether he just didn't care whether Shiro knew or not. At present he was leaning towards the latter, but it was a fools mistake to make presumptions. He needed to make sure he kept anything about him secret and give Sendak no possible ways to manipulate him – any signs of weakness would be exploited. He tried to recall the articles and books he'd read while back in the Garrison, which in turn was something about his life he could use to help tether himself. As soon as he started to forget, that would be when he would break.

 

Sendak's ears pricked when he could no longer hear the Champion's tongue against the carpet. “I presume you are done?” He asked, looking down to see him on his knees glaring at him. “Use your shirt to compress the dampness. Kneel or sit on it so it soaks it up.” Sendak turned his attention back to the screen and looked for the line he was reading. It was the report from the druids about what they had combed from the human's minds, and had a breakdown for each of them for ways to earn compliance. It was good the Champion couldn't read Galran, otherwise he'd be clued up to what Sendak was doing, and he couldn't have that. He heard a sigh and the rustle of fabric and Sendak smirked to himself. For now he was complying, to a degree, but soon enough he'd argue back again. He enjoyed a bit of aggression from his slaves, it made things more interesting when it came to breaking them down. He'd had one about three hundred deca-phoebs ago who was too subservient, and in the end he'd given her away to Commander Trugg who was more than pleased.

 

It had been about twenty minutes since Shiro had knelt on his shirt. Sendak peered over and motioned for him. “Come here.” Slowly, Shiro rose to his feet and walked carefully over, making small noises of annoyance when his thighs rubbed together. As he stopped a few paces to his side, Sendak pulled him over with the prosthetic arm, eyes still fixed to the screen. “Since you have somewhat behaved, I will let you drink to wash away the taste. Would you like that?”  
“It would be appreciated.” Shiro said cautiously. Sendak rose and wandered to a small black cupboard. He pulled out two tiny bottles and returned, placing both on the terminal. “Before you can drink, you must preform a task.”  
“What...'task'?” Shiro's tone was indicative of distrust, and Sendak's lips curled into a small smirk. Suddenly Shiro lost his footing. He fell into Sendak's thighs, yelping as his fingers gained no purchase and slipped down the chest armour. “What is this? What the fuck are you doing?”  
“You said you wanted a drink.” Sendak pushed his claws into Shiro's hair, massaging his scalp forcibly and making the Shiro wince, “and I said you must preform a task.” He pushed his face into his groin. Shiro pulled himself away, hissing through the pain and glowered up at Sendak. “You think I'm going to go there?”  
“Well you have before, have you not?” Sendak leaned forward and chuckled. Shiro could feel a cold sweat on the back of his neck and his hands felt clammy.

 

“What I am saying,” Sendak unclipped the front of his suit carefully with metal claws as he forcibly rubbed Champion's face against his groin, “is that you have serviced males before with no prior connection. This is no different.”  
“You've got no basis!” The Champion's growl was muffled.  
“Your file. It is almost complete.” Sendak yawned, mussing up his hair some more. He could feel the Champion tense up again but continued, “you seem to forget how advanced we are. Now get on with it, I would like to rest shortly.” Sendak turned his attention to his messages, there was an angry one from his resident medical officer, Ulaz, about how quintessence-based medication wasn't supposed to be used as a fix-it for every tiny problem. He groaned, being a Commander had it's perks but responsibility was a pain in the rear.

 

Sendak could feel warm breath against his groin and unsteady hands fiddle with the fabric. He pulled his hand from the thick hair and pushed his fingers into the Champion's mouth, making him gasp in protest, and ran his index finger over the teeth. They weren't too sharp, so not a completely carnivorous race like his own. It was a bit dry in there but it didn't really matter to Sendak at this point. He was there, might as well. He frowned when he felt hands curl around his wrist. He pushed his fingers in deeper, holding Shiro's jaw, as he used metal claws to ease out his cock. Again the Champion tensed. Sendak exhaled and pulled his slightly moist fingers out and gripped Champion's fringe again, pushing his face against it.

 

Shiro felt a cold chill run down his spine. There was no way he was going to get away from this. _Pretend it's Adam_ , he thought. It wasn't comforting when Adam's dick didn't look anything like the strange purple ridged monstrosity that was warm against his face. The head had weird, soft spikes around it before it went to the main shaft. He swallowed what little saliva in had in his mouth. “Please me, slave.” Sendak commanded, this time with a hint of a threat if he didn't. Shiro screwed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the strong musk, reminiscent of cloves. He could do this; he'd already humiliated himself today. He gave a preliminary small lick and brought his hand up and ran it down the ridged shaft. It was surprisingly smooth in comparison to all the fur Sendak had. He mentally scolded himself – he shouldn't think like this – he didn't go to space to jerk off aliens. He gave it a forceful tug, but received no indication from Sendak that it had hurt him. He scowled at the cock in his hand; what was the point if he wasn't going to react? He gave it a harder tug and pressed the flat of his tongue against the head, applying pressure and then easing off for a few seconds, before flicking his tongue around the tip. A sigh came from above him; something then.

 

His strokes became more vigorous as he thought of Adam gripping his shoulders and the hoarse moans he used to make when Shiro went down on him. He quickly ran his tongue along the shaft, the sensation of the ridges odd against his tongue while his hand squeezed the base. Finally, he bit the bullet and took the head in his mouth, rubbing his tongue against the underside of Sendak's cock. A purr came from above him; probably a good sign. The quicker he made Sendak come, the quicker he could go back to his cell. _Is it wrong I miss the cell?_ He thought as he pushed himself further down the cock.

 

Sendak was feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. The slave was acceptable at giving oral, however it was clear he needed improvement. He'd need to train him in that, or throat fuck him, which ever was most appealing at the time. He watched his head bob up and down and felt teeth graze against the ridges. That actually felt nice. It had been quite a while since Sendak had had his needs met, but presently this was a little too slow for his liking. Locking the terminal, he grasped Champion's face with both hands and guided him further down his cock, claws digging into the Champion's skull. He heard a sad whimper, but ignored it as he forced him down quicker. His mouth was still a bit dry, but it didn't matter.

 

This carried on for a few more dobosh's, before Sendak felt the tell-tale signs that he was close – another 'perk' of it being so long, he supposed. He thrust his hips up. Now he was hitting the back of the Champion's throat, which earned more rasps and pained chokes. Biting his lip, he gave one final push and emptied himself into the Champion's mouth, growling in pleasure. He felt his slave try and pull away, but refused to let go. “Drink up, Champion.” He crowed, leering down as he felt him struggle to try and swallow. His eyes watered and he'd started coughing on Sendak's cock. He opened those grey eyes to stare pleadingly at Sendak, but he was kept in place. “When you are finished, you may move.”

 

If Shiro felt sick earlier, the urge to vomit had grown considerably. Sendak's hot come tasted sharp and bitter. There was too much of it and he didn't want his death to be through choking on alien dick. He focused hard and slowly swallowed down bits at a time, using his tongue as a poor barrier to cut off swallowing too much. This throat and jaw felt sore, and he was certain there was possibly come in his nose. Finally, he was allowed to pull away and fell to the floor, panting and coughing. His throat felt sticky and like come was still stuck to it, or carpet fluff, he didn't know any more.

 

“Drink.” Sendak held the tiny bottle out, and without any hesitation he grabbed it and drank greedily. It was a cool, slightly sweet liquid that soothed his aching throat quickly. “What do you say?” Sendak pressed his boot on Shiro's stomach hard. Shiro glared up at him. “I would thank you, but I'm not in the mood.” He pulled himself away, shivering from the dampness still between his legs. Sendak crossed his arms across his chest again, “if you don't thank me, you will not be sleeping.”  
“Are you really being that petty?” Shiro's voice was a bit higher than it should have been. “Why should I thank you? If you had let me take a fucking piss earlier none of this would have happened and I wouldn't have had to almost choke on that.” He motioned to Sendak's cock.  
“Because I _own_ you. You should feel honoured I am being so liberal and not keeping you chained to my bed, because I have no problem with doing that. If the Emperor was doing the punishing, your situation would be considerably worse.” Sendak rose from his seat and descended on Shiro. “So, Champion, are you going to thank me, or would you prefer actual punishment?” He brought his prosthetic arm forward under Shiro's throat, the claws glowing a strange purple-white light.

 

Feeling the heat from the claws and by the unreadable look on the Commander's face, Shiro chewed his tongue as he weighed up possible outcomes. “I am...thankful you gave me a drink.” He had to force himself to say it. Sendak gave him a smug look and turned, passing him the second bottle. “Wait.” He turned and moved through a doorway into another room. He returned quickly with something in his hand, a band of sorts. “To make it known you are mine, you are to wear this.” Sendak grabbed him with the prosthetic arm and held him in place as he fitted the dark grey collar around his neck. Shiro remained still; it wasn't worth fighting with what hung on the table now.

 

“This collar will let others know that they are not to harm you unless I have consented. You will still be able to fight in the arena. It also has a small feature.” Sendak pulled out a small tablet. He pressed a few buttons on the interface, and then it hit Shiro; a jolt of electricity shot through his body. He fell backwards and groaned in pain, clutching at the collar. “This is for punishment purposes. Every time you disobey me, I will use this. Do you understand?”  
“I do.” Shiro bowed his head, eyes dark as he glared at the carpet.  
“I will call Haxus. He shall return you to your cell.”

 

-

 

As soon as Shiro was alone, he rushed over to the toilet bowl in his room and pushed his fingers as far back into his throat as he could. He heaved until he retched. His stomach ached and throat burned and hurt against the collar, but he made himself do it again. Through teary eyes, he stared at the bowl; the purple was probably the food goo, but the pink-white thick swirls was likely what he'd been forced to swallow. He wanted to wipe his mouth in his sleeve, but he didn't want to make this uniform any dirtier. He settled on the floor next to the bowl, wrapping his arms around his knees.

 

The whole interaction was jarring. On one hand he was relieved he wasn't just shoved onto the floor and raped, but at least then he could really hate Sendak and feel justified for wanting to gut him slowly with his own prosthetic arm. He didn't do that; he degraded him and gave him some bastardised illusion of choice between two almost equally shitty options, or just no choice at all. For all he knew this was some elaborate plan to break him down and he wasn't really a slave at all. In retrospect, he got away with far too much then what he should of. At the same time, he was a prisoner and prisoners don't get told things. He shouted hoarsely into his hands. Why couldn't he of just lashed or shocked him a few times?

 

Shiro leaned his head back against the side of the toilet, the cold helping ease his sweaty skin. He pushed his fringe from his forehead and exhaled. This was fucked up. His thoughts were fucked up. None of this should be happening; they should all just be getting ice samples back on Kerberos and listening to Sam sing his silly space peas jingle. Matt would moan at him, and Shiro would be sat at the table laughing. Maybe he'd message Keith and see how he was doing. He closed his eyes at the thought of Keith, the teenager he'd met and helped get into the Garrison; an amazing pilot with so much potential, he wondered if he'd finally beaten any of Shiro's records yet. He was close a few times. His gaze darkened. He wasn't sure how long it had been since they'd been captured, but it was likely that the Garrison had picked something up. Would they have made it public? If they did how would Keith react. He bit his lip and clenched his fists until the knuckles were white. He hoped he was okay.

 

He didn't know what time it was – when did he ever – but it felt like he wasn't going to be sick any more. He made his way over to the slab and looked at the thin blanket. It was big enough to at least cocoon himself in. Sighing, he pulled the ragged shirt off and carefully draped it from the other slab – the one that Matt had sometimes slept on. After that he pulled himself out of the body suit and pulled the legs as far apart as he could to help them dry. He shivered and made his way for the blanket. Hopefully it would all be dry by the morning, and he hoped they'd let him shower again so he could get the blood off his face. He tried to get himself comfortable; tried to ignore the events of the day. He'd probably dream about killing Myzax. He groaned. He needed to start working out how he was going to stay sane in this place fast. If his thoughts were anything to go by right now, then the means may end up being morally questionable. The laugh he released was hollow; stuck in an alien prison trying to think through the moral and ethical dilemmas he found himself in. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the warden could get ideas out of Slav, I presume that this technology exists in prisoner interrogation and the druids can probably do it anyway. I thought this would be an interesting way to break down Shiro since military types are trained to deal with torture and interrogation tactics, but again this will be over time. 
> 
> Chapter 4 as mentioned is quite a ways in. It will likely be shorter but depends. Some of this is writing itself after all. I've had a few more ideas as well, which doesn't help! I think Tuesday may end up being my update days, too!
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope you have enjoyed it!


	4. Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter early??? It is! I've ran into the same problem again for chapter three! Turns out I have a lot to put down even after editing...ahaha. Pretty much I couldn't wait to show you all so releasing now.
> 
> This chapter has the first non-con scene, as a heads up. I know you wouldn't be here really if you didn't want to read the non-con, unless you like the story itself and just skip the rapes. Naturally, I don't condone it, and urge that you are mature enough to read the content.
> 
> Chapter 5 will be out Tuesday as well. That's also done :) and thank you for your continued reading and support! I love chatting with you all in the comments!

Shiro paced slowly from his cell. His clothes had dried but he felt disgusting wearing them. His plan to actively avoid being near any of the other aliens was successful, because they were avoiding him. Whispers, curses, hisses, and the odd alien spitting in his direction followed him around the large room as he got his food. They glared and backed away like he was one of their captors. He nonchalantly tugged at the collar, growling to himself as it refused to budge. He sat in the corner of the room with his bowl of goo. He poked it in disgust, before forcing it down his throat. It was likely that his story had spread from the other aliens who were with him yesterday. He wanted to find Xi, the one that Matt had spoken to, and see if he had any idea where Matt may have gone but there were a lot of prisoners here, and none looked friendly right now.

 

He sighed and picked himself up, grabbing another bottle of water from a crate. It was more comfortable to eat in his cell at this point and he'd barely slept last night thanks to nightmares. What if he was forced to kill someone pregnant, or a child? The Galra were probably disgusting enough to send children to the arena, considering the arena in the first place. It made his blood run cold to think he'd have to be complicit in that, or should he just kill himself instead? But then he'd made his promise to Sam; he had to get him out. Then there was the stress of Zarkon; if Sendak wasn't lying to him about the Emperor, what if _he_ chose to punish Shiro instead? He groaned, pressing his head against the wall near his cell. “C'mon Takashi. Stop worrying and go finish this crap. You're gonna be okay; just think about Matt and Sam.” He took a swig of water. It was felt comforting to hear his own voice saying something positive. He settled on his bed and brought the blanket over his head as he tried to relax. He took another sip of water and then slowly scooped another spoonful of goo.

 

“That's a pretty looking collar, whore.”  
Shiro whipped his head towards the bass voice. In the doorway stood two aliens; one lean and tall, and the other broader with naturally armoured 'skin'.  
“Presumptuous, aren't we?” Shiro held the eye contact, his voice cold. He couldn't recall seeing these two about, but there was a lot of different faces in the prison. The lean one gave him a once over. “Well what else would we call you? Getting pulled out in the night cycle and coming back with that lanky bastard hours later sporting a pleasure slave's collar.”  
“You must be pleased with the promise of protection all because you got lucky.” The broad one sneered. “Attacking the little one because you wanted to sate your bloodlust. It must be a half-breed.” It stepped over the threshold and Shiro pulled the blanket off and moved to the middle of the room. “If you've just come here to talk shit, I don't care. Get out.”

 

The aliens laughed, the lean one fiddling with his horns and mimicking Shiro's voice. “You've not denied anything, but if you want us out, make us.” He sidled up beside the broad one and they looked at each other, then back at Shiro. His gut twisted; their looks were too much like Sendak's last night. Fighting through his dry throat, Shiro pulled himself to full height. “I won't hesitate to beat the ever-loving shit out of both of you if you take one more step forward.” Shiro brought his fists up and shifted his stance so he was ready to strike. The lean one he could deal with, the other he wasn't sure.  
“It wants to fight! It is a half-breed.”  
“We'll wait for later, H'jorn, then we prove our worth as gladiators by putting on a _real_ show.” The lean one patted H'jorn's shoulder as he gave Shiro another once-over, licking his lips. He turned, and H'jorn obediently followed.

 

Shiro stood there tense for a few minutes, straining his ears to listen for them. Once he was sure they were gone he slowly walked back to the slab, placing his hands on the cool metal for support. He just stared at it as he processed the interaction. _Pleasure slave_. He brushed his fingers against his collar, stroking them down the front. He screamed, throwing the bowl of goo across the room and slammed his fists into the metal, doubling over it and trying to restrain himself from crying. He smashed his hand into the metal again a few times for good measure. He needed to hold it together. They were trying to rile him up, that was it. If they were going to be his opponents then of course they'd want to put him on edge a few hours beforehand.

 

The predatory looks.  
Putting on a show.  
Shiro glowered at the slab below. It was clicking into place what they'd meant.

 

-

 

Sendak was sure he'd read the same personnel file twice now. He'd forgotten the feeling of having a new gladiator and the accompanying fears how they would fair in their first day of battles. He'd check the personnel files later, since his meeting with the crew was scheduled for tomorrow. He rubbed his brow as he made a mental checklist of what he needed to do. Aside from escort Champion to the check in, he'd need to be cleaned up and reminded again about arena etiquette. Sendak rested his face in his palm as he weighed up giving him another reason to stay alive; he'd look like a fool in front of the other members of High Command if this one died quickly...and if Ranveig was here then he wouldn't hear the end of it for deca-phoebs.

 

A soft automated beep caught his attention. “Enter.” He watched as the door slid open and Haxus strode in, saluted him, and stood at attention. “At ease.” Sendak motioned for the sofa, and Haxus nodded curtly as both went to sit. “I've got the night cycles report. All systems are online and functional, passing their diagnostic checks. Frequency scans have found nothing out of the ordinary. All crew and sentries have been accounted for, as well as prisoners. A supply delivery was approved and here,” Haxus passed Sendak his tablet, “is what we have received. This has been accounted for.” Sendak nodded his head slowly, signing the small box he needed to. “Aside from this, I have preformed my mainframe checks. No viruses or foreign software detected. Our next fuel delivery has been pushed back a few movements since we are stationed back home.” Haxus took back his tablet and placed it beside him.

 

“Excellent report as always.” Sendak leaned back. “Did you rest well last night?”  
“Yes, especially after I deposited the Champion back in his cell. Permission to speak freely?”  
“Of course.”  
“How are you after last night? I apologise for not notifying you about taking over the escort, but did the Champion behave?”  
“I was stressed last night and about as stressed today.” Sendak flicked his prosthetic hand nonchalantly, “however Champion was mostly behaved. He's very mouthy – asks a lot of questions and doesn't know when to stop.”  
“Did he ask you where that other prisoner was?”  
“No?”  
“Oh, he asked Raglog and I about it. I hinted I could find the information out, at a price.” Haxus purred to himself. Sendak rolled his eyes. “Just how many favours have you got owed to you now?”  
“Enough.” Haxus laughed again and let his head loll back. “I'll put my ears to the ground and let you know whether that might be a viable way to keep him behaving. Give me about a movement, minimum.”  
“Seems reasonable.” Sendak grinned and picked himself up from the sofa, stretching. “I'd best see about getting Champion sorted out. Send a sentry down and have him go to Ulaz.”  
“Understood.” Haxus saluted Sendak, who mirrored him back, before leaving the quarters.

 

-

 

“How have I _gained_ muscle mass? I lose it!” Shiro snapped, bewildered by the chart in front of him, Ulaz groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told you before, the quintessence _healed you_ like it _healed_ your broken nose.”  
“But it's a genetic condition!”  
“Which we can _heal_! When was the last time you had symptoms, hm?” Ulaz leaned down over Shiro who didn't buckle under the gaze. “The last time was...was...”  
“Was before you seen me?”  
“Yeah...” Shiro hesitated, then blinked. “But _how_?”

 

Ulaz cried out in frustration and tightly grabbed Shiro's shoulders, shaking him. “How many times must I say quintessence to you? Are humans really this bovas-minded?”  
“What's bovas-minded mean? You keep throwing about all these alien words and expect me to know – I don't. I had aliens threaten me, been forced to choke on Sendak's dick, and you with your,” Shiro looked around and shrugged his shoulders, “medical...things. I don't think _you_ grasp that I'm from a planet that has never met any other life. So from thinking we may be alone in space to have some Galra cruiser in our system no less, and _then_ be thrown into galactic prison, shouldn't your clearly developed brains be able to make a simple connection?” Shiro had pushed himself off the table and stood as flush against Ulaz. Even though he was taller, Shiro would fight him if he had to.

 

Ulaz stared at him for a long time before clearing his throat. He pushed Shiro back with ease. “It's a phrase meaning stubborn, like a bovas. You are fine for battle. Take him, sentry.” Ulaz breathed out as Shiro was escorted away. He was right; he should try being a kinder to this species. More so if Sendak had already started on him.

 

-

 

“You look better.” Sendak paced around Shiro and stopped in front of him. “You have a good form as well, I approve.” Shiro nodded curtly as he watched Sendak. “Come. We are to board for Central Command.” Sendak motioned for Shiro to follow and he did, keeping a few paces behind Sendak as they made their way to the hangar.  
“Permission to speak?” Shiro glanced up at Sendak as they took the elevator down. Sendak scrutinised him for a moment before motioning him to continue. “Will I be travelling with the other prisoners?”  
“No. You will be with myself and the crew.”  
“I see.” Shiro returned to his rigid position. Sendak observed him from the corner of his eye. It was similar to the tenseness he usually adopted, but it reminded him of Haxus and his own training. Perhaps the Champion's race did know how to be respectful of their superiors.

 

A sharp _bing_ snapped him from his thoughts. Sendak reached into his pocket and pulled out the tablet. A message at this time was odd, as arena days were public holidays. He frowned as he unlocked it and scanned the message. It was from Trugg and calling an emergency council meeting for after the arena matches. He paused before checking the sent list. Scanning the names, he stamped his foot in frustration. Of course _he_ was coming. Of all the commanders, it just had to be Ranveig. He stamped his foot. “You will survive today's matches, understand?” He glared at Champion who gave him a quizzical look. “Understood.” Sendak didn't care to think about Champion's slow tone. So long as his slave won, he could rub that in Ranveig's annoying face. Then there was contending with the other commanders and all the petty squabbles and remarks. So long as Champion lived, Sendak would take it out on him later.

 

-

 

The ride to Central Command was quiet and boring. Shiro listened to the banter from the back of the shuttle, and noted the curious glances at him from the corner of his eye. As they docked, he was ushered down the ramp by a sentry last. It was busier here compared to the other hangar he was in yesterday. There were many shuttles, some better-looking than others. He wondered how they handled in flight compared to Earth's ships; it would have to be what he used if he ever tried to escape.

 

“They are fine vessels.” Shiro looked up to find Sendak studying him. Shiro hummed in agreement and a firm hand came down upon his shoulder, steering him away. “I am going to check you in to the arena, however today you choose a weapon. Do you remember what we spoke about?”  
“Yes. I await for the Emperor to start the fight, and when I have almost defeated my enemy, I wait for him to cast his vote.” Shiro mumbled as he was guided through the hallways. There was something about Sendak that seemed off – he was distracted by something, and at a guess it was whatever he received in the elevator. Perhaps it was an appraisal, if the Galra had those. He used to get nervous about them, never knowing if he had done enough. It may explain why Sendak wanted him to come back alive.

 

-

 

Shiro stood in the cell. The wide door in front of him a way to the arena. He looked down at the blade, similar in design to a shamshir, but with more protection around the hilt. He'd preferred to use the sword from yesterday, but was told they were just for prisoners. A gun would have been easier since he was trained in firearms. He lifted the light weapon, swinging it around to get more of a feel for it. He thrust forward. Again. No, he didn't like that. He slashed across in front of him, the sword sung as it cut through the air. This was better.

 

“You know,” Shiro sat himself against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “You're going to have to kill innocent people, Takashi. Actually kill them. It's more than a simulation this time. You're military, remember? You grew up in a post-war world, but you've been trained for this.” He ran his hand down the detailed handle. “It's horrifying, but we have to live for Matt and Sam. We can't humanise and think about who we're going to...kill.” He let the word hang in the air. “At the end of the day, if conflict had broken out on Earth, we'd have to fight in it. If there's anything you can do, it's try and keep it humane and quick.” He blinked slowly as he recalled the videos they were made to watch.

 

The shooting ranges with human-shaped targets. VR simulations. Drills in decommissioned buildings and ghost towns. He didn't get to the rank of lieutenant for being scared, he got it for understanding what he needed to do when it came to it. Perhaps it was best to frame it as a war upon his people, and he was the sole combatant. If he didn't survive, then how could he protect Matt and Sam, the rest of the Holts...Adam, Keith, Iverson, his friends back home.

 

He chewed his tongue as he gazed at the door in front of him. He'd almost forgot about the facade from yesterday, how he had no idea. Whether it was smart to carry it on was up for debate, but for now it might be a useful crutch until he could settle himself mentally. It would just mean that he'd become more ostracised from the others in the prison, but his survival was paramount. He let his head drop forward as he rotated the blade slowly. He needed to empty his head; get into character. Fact is the others will want him dead, and he didn't know how desperately they wanted it. “If I leave my enemy alive I'd expect them to kill me. The same applies if they leave me alive.” He muttered to himself as the doors whirred into action and the floodlights poured in.

 

He blinked his eyes, adjusting to the new light level and rose. The roar of the crowd he'd been trying to ignore felt like an oncoming avalanche as he left the cell. He could feel that heat, the smell of sweat and food. He slashed his blade as he walked, eyes set on the prisoners in front of him. He was never a religious man, but if there was some type of entity out there, he hoped it would forgive him for the sins he was going to commit. He came to a standstill within eye-line of the box and looked to see Zarkon, stood watching him. He gave a shallow bow, and watched as an alien slowly staggered towards him, clutching the sword close with tears in their eyes. Shiro exhaled and focused. He'd made his mind up.

 

“Vrepit Sa!”  
He launched forward.

 

-

 

“You seem agitated, Commander.” Haxus leaned closer to Sendak, who snorted in response. “What gave it away?”  
“Your fur has ruffled out.” Haxus said quietly. Sendak sighed, running his hand through it to smooth it out. “There's an emergency meeting scheduled for after the fights. Trugg messaged a varga ago. All Commanders are reporting in.”  
“It must be something big for Zarkon to request the entirety of High Command.” Haxus looked around, noting Ladnok and Trugg sat together chatting in the box next to theirs. “Either we are under attack or it's related to the Lions of Voltron.” Sendak murmured as he took a sip of his drink. “Champion is at least preforming to an acceptable standard.”  
“He is. I just hope he doesn't keel over.” Haxus muttered. Sendak grunted in response as he observed the fight below. “His behaviour is perplexing. He fights as he does, but then outside of the arena he is either quiet, difficult, or accepts orders.” Sendak leaned forward, peering down as Champion cut through his opponents tendril, its sword falling to the ground. He was fighting off the other three that had snaked their way around his body with a ferocity that pleased Sendak.

 

“Perhaps the Terrans are contradictory as a species?”  
“Perhaps, Haxus. From the files about Earth history I have seen, they seem to be a very warmongering race.”  
“Then maybe this is his way of honouring his home.” Haxus gazed at Sendak from the corner of his eye. He clearly was stressed if he was thinking about his slave. “I'll take care of the ship until you get back. I'm also buying you those weird salted meats you like so much.” Haxus nudged him gently, earning a soft laugh from Sendak. “I'm always partial to salted meats.”  
“Do you want him in your room later?”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you want me to prepare him?”  
“If you feel like it.” Sendak watched as Champion looked to Zarkon's box as he stood over the now tendril-less alien. Zarkon's fist hit the wall. Both he and Haxus cheered as Champion bent down, lifting it's head up and slit its throat. The crowd roared as the blue blood soaked onto the sands below. Champion stepped over the body and grabbed the sword the alien had been given and stabbed it into the sand.

 

-

 

Shiro turned his attention back to the remaining two prisoners as he wiped his arm over his brow, panting. It was the two from his cell this morning. He took a steadying breath and waited to see which one was called in first. “Our penultimate prisoner is H'jorn of Vema. Tried for despicable crimes against the Empire, he has been sentenced for execution.” For the first time today, the announcer didn't sound like they were bouncing off the walls. A thunderous noise rose from the crowd; boos rumbled around him while the jeers were sharp. He narrowed his eyes; he wouldn't feel guilty about this.

 

H'jorn strode into the arena, head held high as he raised his arms wide. The angry masses proceeded to howl, but neither Shiro or H'jorn were focused on them.  
“How's it been murdering the innocents?” He had a twisted grin upon his face as he studied the blade.  
“How's it feel knowing I'm your executioner?” Shiro took up a defensive stance; he would need to gauge this one first and the break he'd had wasn't as long as he needed.  
“Good, knowing I can kill some filthy half-breed with ease.” H'jorn's voice dripped with contempt as he charged forward. “This is for everything your filthy race has done to mine!” He screeched, drawing the blade high as his body twisted, arm coming out to guard his chest as he brought the blade down hard.

 

It was too much. Shiro dove in the opposite direction as the blade struck the sand with a mighty thud. The sand billowed up around them, but there was no time to hesitate. H'jorn was charging again and Shiro was still on the defensive. Attacking head on was a death wish but he needed to find a way to slow him down. Shiro's eyes darted around between dodging, trying to check his surroundings. The pillars - of course. “Fight me!” H'jorn roared, flinging his sword to the floor. “I'm going to crush your tiny little skull like I've crushed those little kits.” He cracked his neck and chased after Shiro, who was sprinting toward the closest pillar. Shiro stopped, flinging himself around to stare at the oncoming H'jorn. He panted, sweat trickling down his face as he grew closer. H'jorn's arms were outstretched, hands ready to grab Shiro's small frame. Almost...almost.

 

H'jorn smashed into the pillar, his large frame denting it. His small eyes darted around, looking for where the filthy half-breed had gone. He let out a sharp throaty growl as he pulled himself away, bits of debris falling from his arms as dust and sand floated around him. “Face me-”  
He rasped, trying to gulp a few large breaths, before coughing and choking on his own blood. He looked down to see a blade through his abdomen, blood staining the length. Between ragged breathes, he turned his head to see the filthy half-breed behind him; the little cunt had punctured his lungs. He opened his mouth but no noise came out as he slowly slumped forward, the blade coming down with him.

 

Shiro observed H'jorn bleed out. The way he was dying was akin to being shot through the chest. He slowly moved towards the body, taking the handle of the blade and easing the sword out. Under the skin he could see the muscles contracting like lungs. He frowned. He'd not considered alien organs could be in other places. He wiped his brow again as he settled down beside H'jorn as the crowd around them burst into applause and cheers.  
“I don't know what you mean by half-breed, but presume you mean half-Galra.” Shiro looked to H'jorn's wild eyes, his breath ragged and shallow. “I'm not one of them, nor do I ever plan on it. I've got people to save; made promises I plan to keep, and I can't let anything kill me. I don't expect or want your forgiveness, because you're more disgusting than I am.” He spat blood to the floor and wiped the side of his mouth. “However, at my core this isn't me. It never will be.” He listened as the breathing stopped. H'jorn's eyes were still open and looked glassy. Bowing his head, Shiro exhaled and rose from the sand. He wandered over to H'jorn's sword and threw it across the arena towards the last prisoner. He tried to let his body relax. One fight left. This one he wasn't looking forward to considering how exhausted he was. At least the 'show' these two promised wasn't amounting to much, which likely meant the other things they'd mentioned earlier was hyperbole.

 

He looked up to the royal box to see Zarkon stood studying him before raising his hand. Shiro spat again to the floor, watching as the sentry ushered the final alien into the arena, handing them the sword. “Rebel scum, Captain Nadiva of Herteris, you have no idea how much it _pleases_ me to see you here.” Zarkon drawled as he lowered his hand slowly. He looked between Nadiva and the Champion before smirking as the crowd roared in anticipation. “Champion! You have pleased me with your show today. Do not disappoint me. Vrepit Sa!” Shiro only just finished swallowing before he was thrown on the defensive. Nadiva was upon him as soon as Zarkon had finished talking. He swore, holding his sword with both hands as Nadiva bared down on him.

 

“You were lucky.” Nadiva purred, his green-yellow eyes glittered dangerously as he leapt back gracefully. Shiro panted quickly, slashing his sword out before running low forward. Nadiva's guard was wide open and he was cocky; this would show him. He yelled hoarsely as he swung the sword round and it sung through the air. It connected with the other blade. Nadiva yawned lazily and Shiro went to pull back. “Oh no, Champion, you _must_ stay,” he simpered as he grabbed Shiro's hair. He yelled out in pain, pulling against the clawed hand and feeling the strands tear out. His eyes watered as he struggled to get free, but dropped his sword in the struggle. Nadiva laughed. He pulled his sword away and Shiro fell forward between his arm and chest. Shiro hissed as the arm held him in a choke hold and with the sword, Nadiva slowly traced it up Shiro's clothes. He used enough pressure to rip them but not enough to mark the skin.

 

“What good is it keeping all that skin hidden? Your master must be the possessive type.” Nadiva deeply murmured as he cut more fine lines through the fabric. The grip tightened around Shiro's throat as the other arm moved and he felt calloused fingertips and pointed claws peel away his body suit. He jerked away as cold metal compressed against his sweating skin, and slowly he could feel the flat of Nadiva's blade tease it's way down his back, bumping over each vertebrae before tracing over the curve of his ass. Shiro stiffened and he heard a soft chuckle from above him. The flat side spanked his ass, then again a tad harder. Shiro let out high squeak, trying to focus on his escape.

 

He heard the blade thud to the ground and Nadiva relaxed the grip on Shiro's throat, to then lift him like he was nothing and toss him to the floor. Shiro rolled across the sand, the loose shirt fell off and the back of his body suit ripped further apart. He groaned as he came to a stop, about two metres away from Nadiva and the weapons. He rubbed his throat, glaring daggers at his opponent as he brought himself to his feet. “You're quite resilient aren't you?”  
“Don't _fuck_ with me!” Shiro snarled, teeth bared. He clenched his fists tightly as he went back in for another attempt. Nadiva's face became focussed again, almost serene, as he deflected the first punch, but took the second one to the face. He pulled away, rubbing his cheek, but Shiro refused to let up. He grabbed the scruff of Nadiva's neckband and yanked him down with both hands. As he hit the floor, Shiro pulled his leg up and used it to flip Nadiva over the top of him, releasing the grip on the band. Nadiva landed hard on his back and groaned, rubbing teal strands from his face. He cracked his eyes open to see Shiro jump on top of him, pressing down on his chest with his knees and digging his rough fingernails into his scalp.

 

“Little half-breed learn that from his master when he's sucking Galra cock?” Nadiva smiled up at Shiro, who's face contorted with rage. He bellowed, punching him square in the nose, and he could hear the cartilage crunch. Shiro laughed, letting his head fall forward as Nadiva yelled out in pain, trying to nurse his face and pull Shiro's hand from his hair at the same time. Shiro clenched the teal strands tighter, and pulling back his fist again, he smashed it into one of those strange eyes and then the other. Shiro shifted his weight and dropped his knees either side of Nadiva's chest. He flexed his fingers and struck against his left cheek. Then the right.

 

“I. Belong. To. No. One.” Shiro spat between punches. There was purple blood smeared over his shredded knuckles, adding another splatter of colour to the almost complete rainbow on his skin. He could feel his eyes prickle as he punched, panting heavily as he struck again. This one Nadiva caught. He turned his head slowly, staring at Shiro with a single bloodshot eye. There was a ripping noise from somewhere. Shiro tensed as he turned to see two long, thin appendages; similar to those of a praying mantis unfurl. They rose above his head. He pushed himself forward, but was stabbed in the shoulders by the pointed ends. He screamed in pain as he was lifted into the air, and slowly lowered in front of Nadiva's bloody face. He raised a hand and rubbed Shiro's cheek, running a finger along his jawline and over the collar. Nadiva leaned in close, mouth a few millimetres away from Shiro's. “Then why do you wear this?” His warm breath against Shiro's lips sent shivers through his body.

 

-

 

Haggar examined the scene below with objective coldness. “Sire?”  
“Are you going to ask me to let Nadiva live if somehow Champion gets out of this situation?” He watched as Nadiva's appendages pumped something into his shoulders and let Champion fall to the sand. He paced slowly around the body and kicked Champion over to his stomach. “I would like to study the biology, and see if we can engineer something similar. The same goes for the human. It has proven more hardy then initially predicted.”  
“If they were going to be useful to you, why have your druids declared them fit for the arena?” Zarkon glanced over at her. “By that logic every species we enslave would be experimented on, and it's a waste of time.” She muttered, wrinkling her nose as Nadiva, now pinning Shiro through the hands with his appendages, ripped the remainder of his body suit from his back.

 

“Is this necessary, my Lord?”  
“It's entertainment. Listen to the crowd.” Zarkon shifted in his chair as he listened to the caterwauling masses. “It matters not what happens, so long as those who see this broadcast know what will await them in the arena if they wish to defy my rule.” Zarkon glanced over to Sendak's box, not far from his own. The Commander's prosthetic had dug through the thick metal and he had a look of pure fury upon his face. Zarkon sniffed as he turned away. This was all part of Sendak's punishment so far as he was concerned.

 

“Would you prefer them still warm?”  
“I would.”  
“How far are you with your current experiments?”  
“Some are a few phoebs away from completion, others are midway and some have just started. A handful have the materials necessary. Why?” Haggar gave her Emperor a sceptical look. “I want results before I will allow you further funding for these ones. Even then, you will need to seek permission.”  
“I am aware of that.” Haggar rose from her chair and made for the exit, one of the druids who stood in silent vigil following. The other remained.

 

-

 

Shiro's body felt unnaturally warm. He arched his back up as he felt claws drag down his spine. The trails they left behind felt warm. It may be blood, but he didn't care. His eyelids fluttered closed as the claws ran along his sides and he let out a throaty moan. “Does your species always make this much noise?” He heard the deep rumble in his ear and Shiro moaned again. “Why's my body so hot?”  
“Would you like me to help you?” He felt the clawed hands run over the curve of his ass cheeks and squeezed the muscle. Shiro sucked in some air, letting his head flop to the side. His whole body felt relaxed. “Patience.” Nadiva hushed, he retracted his appendages back below the shoulder blades and stalked over to the pair of swords. He weighed them both in each hand, before bringing them back. “This might sting a little, but I promise it'll feel good.” Nadiva leaned down and pressed his fingers to Shiro's hole. As expected, his aphrodisiac worked on this species too as his fingers came away covered in slick. Shiro whined, trying to snare Nadiva with his legs.

 

Nadiva's gaze trawled over the toned and muscular body that writhed at the slightest of touches. He did owe this human some much needed payback, after all. He grabbed both of Shiro's legs, a sword under each arm, and dragged him to the centre of the arena. He laid him onto his front and held both swords to the air. “Which one?” He bellowed. He raised his arm and earned a cheer, and then the other, which gained a louder one. Nodding, he dropped his old sword to the sand and slashed Shiro's blade straight across his chest. The wounds wouldn't be deep; he didn't want to fuck a corpse, but whatever Galra scum had to clean this human up, well he was glad it wasn't him. There'd be a lot to check. He slashed again over Shiro's nipple. He let out a sharp cry, his cock hardening and eyes rolling back. Nadiva chuckled to himself as he slashed again, and again, and again.

 

Nadiva stepped over the body and admired the cross-hatch of cuts, lines, and small gouges. Nadiva settled down at Shiro's hips, running his hands through the blood. “You never told me your name, Champion.”  
“S-Shiro. P-Please, I can't take much more of this.” Shiro raised his hips and tried to catch Nadiva with his legs again. “Shiro. That's a lovely name. Don't worry, you'll be in the depths of pleasure soon.” Nadiva turned to the royal box. Zarkon hadn't ended the fight yet, but had kept looking at Sendak, who looked ready to leap into the arena. The old furball really hated his toys being played with. Shrugging his shoulders, Nadiva pulled Shiro up by the leg and rubbed his hole again. It was soaked with slick. He picked up the sword just under the hilt and aimed the tip of the hilt at Shiro's hole. He pushed it gently against his skin, then a little harder, until it slid inside with a wet noise.

 

Shiro let out a long whine as he arched his body, trying to draw whatever it was into him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as it breached him. It was wide, but he could take it. Everything felt soaked and he groaned as it reached his prostate. He shuddered and looked down at Nadiva through the haze. “Please, I need more.” Nadiva nodded as he twisted the handle out slowly, before pushing it back in. He twisted and thrust a few times, Shiro's screams of pleasure urging him on before feeling his own erection. Nadiva swore as he yanked to sword out and ripped a small hole in his body suit. He eased out his hemipenes; a darker grey compared to the rest of his body, and rubbed their curved heads against Shiro's gaping entrance. Shiro shivered at the bumps he could feel pressing against his hole, and whined for Nadiva, running his hands down his bloody chest.

 

Nadiva finally turned to Zarkon, who still remained watching. Sighing, he took both hemipenes and pushed them both into Shiro at once. He let out a sharp gasp as they unfurled within him and his body was overtaken with a strange fullness. “P-Please!!” Shiro begged, grinding his body against him. Nadiva cocked an eyebrow before throwing Shiro's leg over his shoulder and pulled his body closer, thrusting in deep and slow. Shiro moaned louder, gaining some purchase and thrusting back. Nadiva bit his lips; the hot and slick walls felt tight still around his cocks. His eyes fluttered closed as he picked up the pace, admiring the sweaty skin under the intense lights. He watched as Shiro grasped for his cock, slowly stroking himself.

 

“And you deny you are a whore,” Nadiva hissed as he felt himself get close. Shiro tried to respond but Nadiva gave him no chance. He dropped Shiro's leg from his shoulder but then pushed both his knees up to his chest, pulling his hips up so Shiro rested on his shoulder blades. Nadiva got himself comfortable and licked along his collar bones, lapping at the blood and making Shiro whine and moan even more, pumping his own cock until he came over his chest. Nadiva bit his lip, and his thrusts became more erratic as he got closer. Pulling out, he forced Shiro up by the hair and thrust the thickest hemipene into his mouth. Shiro gagged on it as he emptied himself, the other one splattering come over the collar and down his chest.

 

The crowds around them cheered and booed the two panting gladiators in the arena. Zarkon's face twisted in glee as he rose from his chair. “As the Champion has been _incapacitated_ , and we have been given quite the 'show', I have decided that Nadiva of Herteris will gain the title of Champion, and his opponent, Takashi Shirogane, can re-challenge him in six phoebs time, if he so desires to reclaim his title.” Zarkon nodded down at the arena, before stepping out of the box with the druid behind him. Nadiva watched him go before looking back at Shiro, who'd flopped back to the sand panting on his side, drool running from his mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to break up the scenes as a way help myself. The Nadiva scene was a challenge to write at times, and with what I've got going on in the next two chapters, I hope you appreciate these small snippets of I suppose 'comedy' (Ulaz and Shiro, Haxus being...Haxus, Zarkon and Haggar's old married couple discussion).
> 
> As a note I ship Trugg and Ladnok as very angry girlfriends. They won't be hugely prominent in the fic, but they will be there, being gfs.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and see you for the hell that is chapter 5 on Tuesday!


	5. Enticement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know last chapter has rattled a few of you, and I think some of you are going to remain on edge for the next one, because once again it's a long one. Which also has another rape scene at the end. I'm sorry, my reader friends :( expect it to be as brutal if not more then the last one.
> 
> If any of you need to have a chat about stuff, and you don't want to chat in the comments, I think my inbox is open. I'm always happy to let you run through thoughts, or if anything has effected you. I mean that sincerely.
> 
> On a more positive note, we get to meet some more Galra this chapter! I'm very excited about one introduction!

Ulaz was sat in the lounge on Central Command overlooking the docking bay. Haxus had asked him to keep an eye out for a certain battle cruiser: Ranveig's, and to message him as soon as it turned up. Sure enough, it had just come out of warp a few ticks ago.  
_Ranveig's ship is here. How did it go?_  
The reply was quick and Ulaz's stomach churned.  
_Fuck. You're going to be busy – Commander's furious._  
Ulaz dropped the communicator on the table and ran his fingers through his short fur.

 

“I know that look.”  
Ulaz turned to see Thace stood a few paces away. Thace smiled and came and settled beside him. “Overworked again?”  
“It's bad.” Ulaz downed his drink and ordered another via his communicator. “Did you watch the match?” Ulaz gazed to see Thace look down at the table, resting his hands in front of him and made a derisive snort. “It...he...I don't understand.” Thace said each word slowly, and it made the fur on the back of his neck stand on end to hear him so pained. “I should go collect him. Do you want to come with me?”  
“I'm actually here to meet my _date_ ,” Thace winked at Ulaz, who nodded slowly. “She's just made it in on that ship that docked.” Ulaz knew he was playing it up in case of eavesdroppers, but it was just bad. “Then you both might as well come keep me company, if your date would like to see a strange, mostly hairless alien.” Ulaz laughed softly to himself as he rose. The drink arrived as he was about to turn, and he downed it in one, handing the glass back. “Let's go meet her then.”

 

-

 

“What did Ulaz say?”  
“T-They're here, Commander.” Haxus stood rigid as Sendak's gaze remained on the arena. Both fighters were tranquillised and dragged from the ring by the sentries. “You are still to prepare him and can do as you wish. Gag him as well. I am off to my meeting.” Sendak turned, fur bristling in rage as he stalked from the box. Haxus waited until he left before relaxing his position, dropping back down into the seat and staring at the twisted and punctured metal in front of him. Sendak must be pleased today at all costs; if he wasn't, the crew would have hell to pay. He swallowed, checking his communicator. He had at minimum three vargas, and needed to get to work. He was angry, and if it was his choice, Nadiva would be the one getting punished. He narrowed his eyes. That could probably be arranged.

 

-

 

“Where did they find him?” Krolia cast a cold gaze over Shiro's body.  
“They've made it to the end of their solar system. Krovag picked three of them up apparently.” Ulaz muttered, injecting two needles of quintessence into Shiro's chest to kick-start the healing process. It was risky using this much, but he was on a time limit. He surveyed the lacerated flesh and rubbed the bridge of his nose; it wasn't going to be healed by today.  
“Was there any-”  
“No. None were Keith.” Ulaz sighed as he turned to Krolia. She nodded slowly and turned away, resting her forehead against the wall. Thace went to place a hand on her shoulder, but hesitated before pulling away. “He must still be safe with his father.” He muttered, sidling up alongside the table to survey the human himself.

 

“For how long is what I'm concerned with. I don't think we have the ability to stall them any longer.” Krolia remained in her position. “Have you let him know about the humans?”  
“I did as soon as I had the chance.” Ulaz said as he placed some towels next to Shiro and dipped a thick cloth into a container of warm water, dabbing the torn skin as carefully as he could. He threw a cloth to Thace and both worked their way across Shiro's chest. “Thank you.” Krolia turned to watch them both clean the body, noting the collar and feeling her stomach churn. _At least it isn't Keith._ “Would you like assistance? Standing here like this makes me feel useless.”  
“Draw some blood for me and place it in the machine by my terminal. I'll need to make sure there's no contamination in his blood stream. I need antiseptic as well. Top left cupboard on the back wall.” Ulaz squeezed the dirty cloth and threw it to the side, taking a clean one and continuing down his abdomen. “For how frustrating this human is, certain damage was completely unnecessary. I will say though, his will to stay alive is refreshing.”  
“I didn't think you got soft spots for your patients?” Thace glanced up. “It's not a that. He doesn't back down in the face of things bigger than himself. He reminds me why we fight.” Ulaz softly patted Shiro's clean shoulder.

 

-

 

The chamber buzzed with chatter. Theories of why they were all here, the arena fights, gossip. Sendak sat near Zarkon's seat at the head of the table, drumming his claws over his arm. He glared hard at the display in front of him, trying to focus on the intelligence report he was supposed to of finished reading earlier. His ears pricked as the automatic doors opened, and he glanced to the side to see who it was. He uttered a curse to himself as Ranveig stomped in, the usual smug look upon his face.  
“If he annoys you just ignore him.”  
“Did I ask for your opinion, Trugg?”  
“I don't fancy sitting through another one of your dick measuring contests again.” Trugg shrugged her shoulders and looked at Sendak. “Don't look so sour, it does nothing for you.”  
“Noted.” The two shared a civil chuckle.

 

“Ahh, Sendak. How have you been?” Ranveig settled in a chair on the opposite side, his broad form looking far too big for the seat. Sendak leaned back. “Busy. Yourself?”  
“Busier than you I bet. I took a new planet a movement ago; a bit messy but hey, it's why the Emperor sent me.” He beamed, placing his tablet into the port and engaging the display. “It was a shame I missed the arena, did get to watch it all. Lucky that the weak runt managed to survive.” He glanced up at Sendak, smug smile back on his face. “I suppose it shows; you know, who has more money than sense.” He kept his eyes, one cybernetic and the other natural, trained on Sendak. “Well,” Sendak scratched the side of his nose, “it would certainly be a bad purchase. However, the Emperor has his reasons behind gifts.” He locked eyes with Ranveig, who made a small growl before looking away.

 

The room hushed as two guards called for attention. The Commanders rose to their feet at attention in absolute silence as Zarkon came in to the chamber. He made his way along the side of the room and settled into his throne at the top of the table, Sendak to his right, and Haggar, who as usual slipped in quietly after, to his left.  
“At ease.” There was a scuffle of chairs against metal and the odd creak as the commanders settled back into their seats. “I am aware that the meeting was tabled at short notice, and I am pleased to see all of High Command is accounted for.” Zarkon took stock of each commander in turn. “However it is of great haste that I call this meeting.” He tapped a button on his display and a holographic monitor appeared in the centre of the table above them. It was an image of a robotic lion. Gasps filled the room as they all stared at the projection.

 

“There are intelligence reports that the Red Lion has been uncovered by rebels in the Raxgarian System in the Quaserian Quadrant.” Zarkon tapped his claw and the display changed to a map of the empire. It flashed green on a galaxy near the edge of the map and zoomed in several times to the system in question. “Although intelligence is still trying to establish whether this is correct, this is the first time in deca-phoebs we had any specific evidence of a location. Moving forward, I will be reallocating commanders to compensate for the search efforts.” The holographic display above the table disappeared, and Zarkon leaned back in his chair. “High Command will not be changing, however Commander's Sendak, Trugg, Ladnok, Gnov, Janka, and Ranveig will be pulled from their current responsibilities and operations to stay with the main fleet. Sendak and Ranveig, you may nominate a Lieutenant to oversee your role duties as you see fit. You will all be taking an advisory role, like Commander Gnov.” Zarkon motioned to Gnov, who bowed her head in gratitude.

 

“Commander Prorok will be supported by Commander Mar directing Central's fleets due to the increased activity, while Commander Branko,” Zarkon glared at Branko, “will be taking his fleet to assist Ranveig's on the front lines. Commander Morvok will be overseeing Janka's supply chain.” Zarkon's eyes narrowed as the tiny commander sat almost near the end of the table pumped his fist in celebration. It was easier to keep him as far away as possible, the cowardly brown-noser. The commanders around him hushed and elbowed Morvok back into silence. One large positive of assigning Morvok was that he was incompetent, and with Janka having the second-largest fleet in the Empire, Zarkon wanted to put him back in his place.

 

“If you are stationed at a Communication station or overseeing mining planets, you will be exempt from searching, but must offer one cruiser for the search. Finally, those of you around the table who have not been singled out will be tasked with hunting down the rebels and combing the systems.” Zarkon turned to the members of High Command, “I expect to see submissions by the start of the night-cycle regarding who you are leaving in charge. Some of you will be given new systems to oversee, however the extra support and fleets should be sufficient.” Zarkon watched his commanders faces. Some looked anxious, others seemed excited. It was a good way to work out which would be effective moving forward.

 

“Haggar also has news to share.” Zarkon turned to her and she nodded slowly, standing from her seat to address the room.  
“We have developed a way to possibly detect the signal of the Lions. This will be sent to you via the communicators within a quintant, along with information pertaining to rebel forces and their ships. Your feedback will be required on its effectiveness. I can also confirm the Komar experiment will be ready for testing within a few more phoebs. Any suggestions of planets with a populace would be useful for initial testing.” Haggar gazed around the room, which remained deathly silent. She sat herself back down. Zarkon cleared his throat. “On to other business.”

 

-

 

“Ulaz, is he- I don't recall authorising a party in the medical bay.” Haxus blinked as he stepped into the room, eyes darting between the three officers stood around the body on the table. “L-Lieutenant Haxus. I was just showing Lieutenant Thace and Officer Krolia the human. They were most intrigued from the arena matches earlier.” Ulaz smiled wryly. Haxus nodded slowly. “I did not see their names signed in on the ship's log.”  
“That is my fault.” Ulaz dropped his head. “I had to quickly attend to the prisoner due to the severity of his wounds. I will not make the mistake again.”  
“See to it you do not. It is nice to see you, Lieutenant Thace. Was it Krolia?”  
“Yes sir.” Krolia stood to attention. “I am intelligence on Commander Ranveig's ship. Please accept my apologies, I have never seen a human up close. Their bodies are...strange. Furless.” She glanced over at the table awkwardly. “The lack of fur is distressing.” This earned a small chuckle from the others around. “Well they say the thicker the fur, the better the mate.” Thace patted Krolia's shoulder.

 

Haxus cleared his throat and all but Thace stood to attention. “The Commander has required him. Is he able to function?”  
“He has sustained damage that is healing at present. Medically speaking he needs rest.”  
“Quintessence?”  
“Two large doses. Administered four vargas ago. He should be waking up from the tranquillisers soon.” Ulaz watched Haxus weigh up what he needed to do. He was always far too easy to read.

 

“What has happened with the new Champion?”  
“I am yet to see him.”  
“You don't need to. He will heal fine.” Haxus moved forward and looked down at the naked body. He could finally see in detail all the slashes across the slave's chest. “I'm making a change to your rota. Since you are with friends, you can take the night off. You will need to start early however. I suspect you will be busy tomorrow.” Haxus stared intently at Ulaz, who nodded slowly as he understood the meaning. “Thank you, Lieutenant Haxus. Shall we be off?” Ulaz turned to Krolia and Thace, who nodded in agreement.

 

“Urgh...”  
The four Galra looked around to see the slave open his eyes slowly. He gazed at them and tried to sit up, hissing in pain and slumping back down. “I'll carry him.” Haxus moved to the table and with ease scooped him up bridal style. He nodded to the others and swiftly made an exit. Ulaz, bit his lip as the door swished shut behind him, and flopped back into his chair. “You wonder why I drink?” He muttered. Thace and Krolia padded over, rubbing a shoulder each. “You can get through this, brother,” Krolia smiled. Ulaz felt Thace smooth the fur on the back of his neck. He was good at calming him down.

 

Haxus gently placed the slave on Sendak's sofa. From his bag, he placed two big packets of salted meats on the terminal and sighed heavily at the human. “I will run you a bath. Wait.”  
“Is this Sendak's room?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why am I here?” Haxus studied the slave before moving to the bathroom. He heard a loud hiss – he'd probably tried to get up. He leaned over the side of the bath, turning the taps on, and grabbed a few bottles. He'd need get rid of Nadiva's scent as thoroughly as he could, because even through the antiseptic, Haxus could smell the sickly sweet scent on the slave's skin. Scents Sendak recognised would please him, and right now that's what he focused on.

 

He came back into the living quarters to find the slave sat up, running his fingers across the wounds, a small frown on his face. “Come here. I need to check you.” Haxus watched him drop his hands to his knees before slowly walking over, a pained look as he soothed his ass. “Do you remember what happened?”  
“Kinda. It's still hazy.”  
“Turn around.” Haxus narrowed his eyes at lines of scabbed skin all over him. The shallow cuts on his chest were almost gone, but there was still a lot there. He pressed his hands against the body firmly, checking for any signs of broken bones. That all seemed fine. He ushered the slave into the bathroom and stopped the taps. He pushed him forward towards the water.

 

Tentatively, Shiro tested the water with his foot. Humming in appreciation, he got in the tub. He was fine until the water covered his ass; that made him yelp.  
“Whats wrong now?”  
“It...stings.”  
“Stand and lean over.”  
“I...”  
“You can't check your own rear unless humans are that flexible. Considering the arena, I don't think it matters much any more. The Empire has seen you at your most intimate.” Haxus huffed. Shiro stared wide-eyed at him. “What do you...? No. No no no.”  
“Fights are broadcast. Now bend over. That's an order.” Haxus moved towards Shiro, who complied out of shock. _They recorded everything? No. This was worse, so much worse. If it was broadcast, what if Matt or Sam saw it? They'd have seen him fight like that, seen him come undone. No._

 

Shiro felt claws spread his cheeks apart. He swallowed down a large lump in his throat as he felt them trace the skin, poking and stroking. He'd expected it to be more painful. “You have a hairline tear here,” Haxus smoothed his finger just below his hole, “but it's in surprisingly good condition considering you were sodomised with a sword and hemipenes. I suppose that's the quintessence.” He poked his finger a bit harder, making Shiro whine. “Don't touch there.”  
“Why?” Haxus poked it again and earned another noise.  
“B-because it's sensitive!” Shiro's voice caught in his throat. “I would have never of guessed.” Haxus muttered, his hot breath tickling Shiro between the thighs. “Now in the bath with you. Go.” Haxus pulled back and tapped Shiro's ass. Groaning in frustration, Shiro lowered himself steadily. He took a deep breath and hissed out loudly as he submerged his body. He tested moving, the water gently lapping against his scarred skin. That was ok. This would be ok.

 

“I will be washing you.”  
“I can do it myself.”  
“No. You are to let me wash you thoroughly. I will need to scrub you down for the Commander.” Haxus took a rough brush and Shiro coughed loudly. “That's going to just rip the scabs off my skin. Do you have a flannel? It needs to be soft.” He looked around for something. “Will this do?” Haxus produced something similar to a loofah from a small drawer near the bath. Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it. He ran his fingers over the beige item; it was sufficiently soft. Haxus pushed his hand against Shiro's shoulder. “Lay down.” Shiro slowly let himself sink into the large bath, a pained smile on his lips as the water lapped against his sore back. He was uncertain why Haxus seemed to know Sendak's place so intimately. “Why does Sendak have something soft like that? How's that any good for washing?” Haxus looked anywhere else but at Shiro as he applied the teak coloured gel to it. “Arm.” Shiro brought up his arm and Haxus scrubbed him. He wasn't as rough as Shiro was expecting, and he closed his eyes as Haxus pulled his other arm up. It could be considered relaxing. Especially considering earlier. His memories had started to come back, a feeling of nausea curling in his stomach. Alongside it he felt the flames of rage slowly flicker to life. As soon as he saw him again, he'd have him.

 

“I'm coming in. It's very awkward to wash you like this.” Shiro's bubble burst as he whipped his head to Haxus as he unclipped his armour. Shiro scooted down the other end of the bath and drew his legs up against his chest. Haxus looked him over and shrugged. “I carried you here naked and have been washing you. Now you have a problem?”  
“It's just intimate; one of my captors just casually getting in the bath with me. Naked.” Shiro muttered, fiddling with his collar. “Well I'm not going to wear my body suit. I need to remove that to clean you properly.” Haxus snapped his claws at Shiro's collar and placed his hand on the side of his neck. It clicked, and he pulled away, seeing a ring of dirt and blood.

 

Shiro watched him place it down and unzip his body suit, letting it drop to the floor. He ran a hand through his short fur and turned. His body was littered with scars; some nicks and others deep gouges. His eyes trailed down to the small waist and strong thighs. Shiro swallowed again as Haxus sat himself down at the other end of the large bath. “I know, I have an excellent physique.” He pulled Shiro towards him, settling him between his legs. Shiro watched him reach for the soft loofah and gel again, then a few seconds later felt a strong clawed hand on his shoulder as he scrubbed against his skin. He let out a soft whine when Haxus scrubbed between his knotted shoulder blades. He arched his back; that actually felt good. There was a soft chuckle behind him as Haxus moved down his spine, making pleasant circle motions. Shiro closed his eyes as he leaned forward. It felt _really_ good; the last time he did anything like this was with Adam in the shower three months before Kerberos. That had quickly turned to sex, along with all the other times they'd had showers together.

 

“Turn.”  
Shiro moved himself around; his body had slowly gotten less sore since he got in the water. Haxus finished squirting the gel and pulled Shiro close to his chest, placing Shiro's arms either side of his head. He tilted Shiro's head up as held him by the jaw as he gently cleaned his neck. Shiro could see himself in the wall-length mirror opposite; the position Haxus had him could be viewed as riding him. He swore to himself, dropping his head, he didn't want to think of Haxus and his weird alien dick. No. Nope. “Are you alright?” Haxus smugly asked, his voice a rumble near Shiro's ear as he squeezed the loofah over his nipple, hand tightening on his hip. “Why?”  
“You seem aroused.” Haxus ran his clawed finger down Shiro's skin to a few centimetres away from the base of his cock, voice completely deadpan. Shiro looked down between his arms to see a semi-hard erection.

 

He pushed himself away from the edge of the bath and covered his body. “Should I let you clean around there? I don't know how soft I need to be.” Haxus passed Shiro the loofah, who took it quickly. He turned away from Haxus, squirting some liquid onto it as he shifted to a raised position. He looked at the loofah and then his cock, and decided it was best to ease it with his hands. He placed the loofah to the side after making sure his hands were soapy, and massaged his cock until it was thoroughly lathered, his brows knitted together as he focussed on making sure it was clean before he went back to days or weeks feeling filthy. He reached for the loofah, but turned to see Haxus holding it. “You will stay will you are and wash here.” He ordered coolly tapping his ass as he handed it back to Shiro. Shiro made a small huff and arched his back as he scrubbed his ass cheeks. His face flushed as he stared hard at the wall in front of him, realising the other places he needed to still clean. “You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Shiro glanced back at Haxus, who grinned, letting out a loud purr. “Fuck sake.”  
“If you don't finish cleaning I will scrub you hard.”  
“I know.” Shiro used his left arm to support himself against the side of the bath as he leaned forward and spread his legs. Slipping his right arm between them, and cleaned as quickly and thoroughly as he could. He really didn't want Haxus having a free show when he needed to clean _certain_ places.

 

“Happy?” Shiro thrust the loofah into the water, wringing it of the suds.  
“Somewhat aroused. I did not realise humans had hairs around there, or on the front, or the legs.”  
“Are you aroused at me washing, or my body hair?” Shiro clenched his jaw and glared at the wall in front of him as he sat back down in the bath. Haxus gently pulled him back by his shoulders. “I will wash your hair. Lay down.” Shiro did as he was told, although concerned that Haxus would just drown him in the bath tub. He felt his hands massage his scalp, paying attention to his fringe that had been frequently abused as of late. “Do all humans have hair like this?”  
“No. It's just a style we have it cut to. I like it this way.” Shiro closed his eyes. “What about how dark it is?”  
“Humans hair ranges from black through white. Eye colour changes as well.” Shiro let himself be pulled up as Haxus lathered the shampoo that smelt close to manuka honey. _Matt used manuka honey shampoo_. He looked at the greying water around him, wondering where Matt was now. He didn't move when Haxus went to pull him down, but did jerk back to reality when a pointed claw pressed against his asshole. “I need to wash it out.” He said. Shiro muttered an apology and laid back, eyes boring a hole into the ceiling.

 

 _What am I doing bathing with the enemy?_ He bit his lip, heartbeat raising. “Lieutenant Haxus, permission to speak?”  
“You're being exceedingly formal. But permitted.”  
“Prisoners...117-9876 and 117-9874,” he paused, adamant he was right, “would you be able to confirm their status?” God he hoped this worked. He watched Haxus's eyebrows raise, a small grin on his face. “Very good, slave.” He stroked Shiro's cheek like you would a pet. “If you do something for me later, I think I might just be able to get you that information.”  
“You said the price would depend.”  
“I'm even more pleased you remembered.” Haxus finished smoothing the suds out and let Shiro sit back up. He pulled Shiro into his chest, slinging an arm across his waist and stroking his thigh. “If you can behave this well for the Commander later, I'm very certain I can let you know soon.”  
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”  
“Oh, that wasn't my full price.” Haxus squeezed the back of Shiro's thigh, and he understood, the nausea threatening to actually make him sick.

 

Getting out of the bath, Shiro handed a towel to Haxus and then took one for himself. He bent down to look at the collar. He chewed his tongue as he looked at the blood and filth, but bent over the side of the bath and pulled out the loofah. He gave it a firm scrub, rotating the collar to inspect for any tiny piece of dirt. “Lieutenant?” Shiro offered it to Haxus, who took a few moments to judge it before clicking it back on Shiro's neck. “It is good you did not need to be prompted. The Commander will be pleased.” Haxus ruffled his damp hair. He let himself be led out of the room as the bath drained to the sofa. Being made to sit, Haxus paced towards a bag by the terminal.

 

He dumped it on the table, the contents rattling as it hit the glass. “Open the bag and lay out the contents.” Haxus settled on the sofa opposite him. Shiro frowned at the bag as he pulled it over and unzipped it. Sticking his hand in, he felt something cold. He ran his fingers over it, finding it was made of several linked pieces. Sighing loudly, Shiro tugged it from the bag. “Chains. Should I be surprised?”  
“I would be shocked if you were.” Haxus shrugged his shoulders as Shiro let them clatter to the table. “Wall, ceiling, or bed?”  
“Bed.” Haxus grinned as he lazily pulled the chains over and started to untangle them. “Continue.” Shiro groaned as he pulled the bag to his lap and dug around. He set a collection of plugs that increased in size on the table, something similar to a bit you'd put in a horse's mouth, and three tubes of liquid that he could only hope was lube. Assessing the items, he rested his face in his hands. “Would my assumption be correct that when you said about preparing me for the commander, it wasn't just having a bath?”  
“That's an astute and correct assumption. So long as you comply, I will find out the status of the other prisoners.” Haxus crossed his leg over the other and observed Shiro. “It's ultimately a fair deal; we both get things for those we care about. If you dishonour our agreement, well...I'd hate to be in your shoes anyway.” Haxus gave the chains a quick shake and rose, taking them through the other door in Sendak's quarters. “Go collect my things and rinse the bath.”

 

Shiro entered the bedroom reluctantly, a knot in his stomach. The bed was huge with the chains coiled in the corners. Shiro placed Haxus's suit and armour neatly on the floor, hesitating near the door. He had a head start if he tried to make a run for it. “Come lay here without the towel.” Haxus patted the spot behind him, scratching his shoulder nonchalantly. Shiro swallowed, Adams apple tight against the collar. He moved carefully to the huge bed and climbed up. Haxus reached out and grabbed him with his long arms then pushed him down on his stomach. He felt the mattress move and creak as he felt soft fur brush against his skin as Haxus settled on top of his ass. It almost tickled. “Hands above your head.” Haxus muttered, hot breath against Shiro's neck. He complied and winced when Haxus tightly gripped them. He felt his rough tongue run down his back; twinges of pleasure rippling through his body as it dipped between his muscles. Shiro shuddered as Haxus ran his other hand down along his side.

 

Shame swelled in Shiro's stomach and it got tighter as he felt the hand massage his ass cheek, the deft tongue licking small circles around his tail bone. He let out a soft hiss as it dipped a bit lower, which earned a harsh chuckle from Haxus who nipped at the flesh lightly. Shiro squeaked, pressing himself into the mattress and trying to imagine it was anyone else. He had to comply. He could get information for doing it. What was his pride worth for Matt and Sam? He jerked from his thoughts as the rough tongue licked against his hole, teasing the entrance briefly, before lapping over his taint. “N-No.” He whined. “No? Your body seemed to like it.”  
“My body _reacts_ to stimulus, that doesn't mean I _want_ it.” He couldn't believe he had to explain this; he felt completely nonplussed. “You're going to have to accept it's happening and learn to enjoy it.” Haxus licked again, earning another shudder again. “It'll be easier for you, like complying.” He teased Shiro's hole again, pushing his tongue in deeper. Shiro pressed his face into the blanket, groaning loudly. He had to bear it; at least it wasn't Matt or Keith. He grit his teeth; if anyone _ever_ touched them, he'd kill them himself.

 

“On your knees and spread yourself.” Haxus commanded, taking one of the small bottles and placing it next to Shiro. He pushed Shiro's face down into the mattress and leaned back. “Now put on a nice show for me, better than the one in the bath.” He taunted as he leaned back on the bed, taking his cock in his hand. Shiro swallowed as he noted it's length. It was very similar to Sendak's, but the ridges looked more like small bumps. He unscrewed the cap and squeezed a modest amount out, before placing a hand between his legs and rubbing it slowly over his hole. Haxus purred as he watched, and Shiro closed his eyes to focus his efforts. He pushed two fingers in and slowly scissored his entrance, trying to stifle his moans. It was a lot looser then it should be, but after what he'd remembered in the arena, it wasn't a surprise. If he saw Nadiva again, he knew he'd snap.

 

“Play with yourself more.”  
“Yes sir.”  
“And refer to me as sir, I like that.” Haxus narrowed his eyes as he grabbed Shiro's wrist and forced his hand in rougher. “Roughness is what Galra like. We are not tender.”  
“Yes...sir.” Shiro bit his lip as he pulled his fingers out to move his hand, and for good measure inserted a third finger. He used his other hand to pump himself with slow but rough movements, screwing his eyes shut as the heat rose internally. He started to pant as he built up a good rhythm, and that feeling of needing more, which usually he loved, started to surface. He refused to beg.

 

“Oh? Are you getting needy?” Haxus leaned in, stroking his inner thigh. Shiro didn't respond as his breath hitched in his chest. He rolled his hips and moaned into the blankets. “I have something for you,” he indicated to his leaking swollen cock, “would you like to feel it?” He took the bottle of liquid and poured some over himself, smoothing it in. Shiro watched his hand slide over the soft, rounded spikes on the head and licked his lips absently as the lube shined off the small bumps. Shiro bit his lip, piercing the skin to temper himself. _No. He would not beg._ As if he could read minds, Haxus pulled back. “If you don't answer me, I'll just have to put your collar to use. Oh, and no information,” he simpered. Shiro stopped fingering himself. “You can't. We made a deal.”  
“I can and will. Answer.” He dug his claws into Shiro's skin, on the verge of piercing it. “I...Yes. I would like to feel it, sir.”  
“Better.” Haxus made a loud purr as he yanked Shiro by his legs towards him. He got on his knees and steadied himself, pushing down deep into him without any notice. “My, you humans are quite spacious.” He crowed, pushing himself in to the hilt.

 

Shiro tried to scream out as Haxus stretched and pierced right into his prostate. Pain shot through him like electricity. He felt the strong hands push his shoulders down as Haxus drew out to the tip before thrusting sharply back in. “You know,” Haxus panted, “I really do like how bloodthirsty you are. Your fights are,” he thrust extra hard, making Shiro cry out, “some of the first in a long time I've found titillating.” He pulled out and with ease flipped Shiro on to his back. “I want to watch that pretty little face of yours.” He bared down, lifting Shiro's legs against his chest and pushing himself back in with a wet pop. Shiro tried to pull back, but the claws now around his hips dug in, piercing the skin. “Stay!” Haxus snarled, his lips curling back to reveal sharp teeth. He stared down at Shiro's chest, a mad glint in his eyes. “I can't wait to see you back in the arena, more scars across your body.” He traced one of the small gouges under Shiro's nipple.

 

Shiro tried to scream out again at the white-hot pain. It felt like his organs were getting churned up. _It's all for Matt and Sam, it's all for Matt and Sam. Patience yields focus._ He groaned out as he felt his cock squeezed. He was already close; had been for a while, but at this rate he wasn't going to get to finish at all. Everything was painful and he just wanted it to end. Suddenly, Haxus pulled himself out. He yanked Shiro by the fringe as he crawled over his chest, forcing his mouth open and shoving his cock in. Hot come erupted into his mouth for the second time today. His eyes rolled back and the corners prickled with tears as he gagged on the thick and sticky liquid. “Swallow it all. Then clean me up.” Haxus ordered, rubbing the top of his head as he slowly came down. Shiro would glare at him if he could, but for now he had to focus on dealing with the hot mess in his mouth.

 

Finally he was allowed to fall back into the bed, panting heavily and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “There's a bit of blood.” Haxus noted, pulling Shiro's leg up and lapping against the skin. He cried out for the umpteenth time today, his own neglected cock twitching for release. “I have something for that. You have to wait for the Commander before you can.” Haxus pulled something out from a drawer beside the bed, Shiro eyeing the small metal ring with disdain. “I don't want Sendak's old cock ring. Or yours. I don't know anymore.” He snapped, but his protest was ignored as Haxus clipped it around him. “I also need to finish getting you ready. Your teeth need cleaning, they look disgusting.”  
“I'm aware, because no one has given me a damn toothbrush since I've been captured!” Shiro growled. Outside of the lack of showers and other hygiene facilities, he hated the gross taste in his mouth, which had been added to by the third alien who'd came in his mouth within the last day or however long it had been. Haxus rounded on Shiro, squishing his cheeks together. “Talk to me again like that, and I will rip your cock off and fuck your own ass with it. Understand?” To put his threat across, he gripped Shiro tightly, pushing his claws in and breaking the skin. Shiro screeched and curled into himself, glaring at Haxus as he pulled himself off the bed. “You'll also need this.” Haxus threw the largest plug at the bed. “Put it in.”

 

-

 

Sendak stalked down the hall, rubbing his eyes. When Zarkon had allowed questions after everyone gave their reports, the newer commanders would not shut up. There were arguments; Branko pleaded about going to hunt for the the Red Lion, and was thankfully punched in the face by Ladnok, then Gnov and Janka got into a debate about his fleet. He was looking forward to the salted meats and venting his frustrations.

 

“Sendak.” Sendak stopped, growling in frustration. “What are you after, Ranveig?”  
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering what my old comrade is up to these days.” Ranveig slapped his shoulder hard and leaned down. “I mean, you got a really cushy job just transporting prisoners and patrolling one of the quietest quadrants in the Empire. You're getting a reputation for being soft; especially after allowing a bottom-bitch like that into the arena.”  
“That 'bottom-bitch' killed Myzax.” Sendak shoved Ranveig's hand from his shoulder.  
“And he was going to die eventually. It was luck.”  
“Are you really thinking the Emperor would give me something weak? You insult our Emperor?” Sendak turned on his heel and brought himself toe-to-toe with Ranveig. He was a few inches taller, but Sendak knew he was the stronger of the pair.

 

“I think you're trying to save face. I saw the bid you placed.”  
“Then ask the Emperor yourself.” Sendak glared into the cybernetic eye and raised his prosthetic arm slowly. Ranveig snorted, pushing past Sendak. “Your slave gets being a bitch from you. If the Emperor asked you to suck his cock you'd bend over backwards...if you haven't before.” He laughed at the guttural snarl from behind him and felt the prosthetic arm punch him in the back. “Now, now, Commander. We have to be professional. See you around.” He raised his hand as he walked away, Sendak glowering after him, a thunderous growl in his throat. Ranveig would pay for his disrespect.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manipulative bastard, thy name is Haxus.  
> Lets hope he remains honour-bound, huh?
> 
> And sorry for the ever-mounted tension because guess who's coming back home? Sendak.  
> Sendak will be here next chapter. I am going to REALLY pre-warn you that it will be nasty, and aggressive, and bordering into a bit fucking messed up because I made the mistake (possibly) of listening to death metal (see: The Black Dahlia Murder) as I wrote the scene (it's half way done and I think it's already about a page). I'd say have a look at some of the songs titles and pick some of the more gruesome sounding ones and read the lyrics if the music isn't your cup of tea (Raped by Thorns of Hatred was one and that made me squirm).
> 
> But KROLIA. Blades spending time together!!! Krolia won't be making a massive appearance in this fic, but we'll see her from time to time. I need her to talk to Shiro.
> 
> Presume chapter 6 will be out next Tuesday. If I get it done earlier though I will post it for you guys. Thanks for reading again!


	6. Shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter for once! I decided to upload this now, as I'm expecting a handful of short chapters as I round off the...three days this has been set over since Chapter 2. Chapter 7 will close this all off, and probably be a good reprieve for a bit.
> 
> Non-con effectively from the start, as a warning. There's also eye gore later on.
> 
> Thank you again for the comments and kudos!

Sendak burst into the room, fur fluffed up. “He's in the bedroom ready.” Haxus looked up at him from the sofa, gaze sharpening. “Ranveig?”  
“We'll talk later, Haxus. Is he prepared?”  
“He is. You were still okay for me to...?”  
“You know I would be; I trust you.” Sendak clapped his hand down on Haxus's arm, giving it a small squeeze. “Are you sorting out the new cell tonight?”  
“I am. I see we need to hold _it_ in there too.”  
“With you in charge for now, I'm sure everything will work out.” Sendak rumbled as he unclipped his armour and placed it on the sofa. Haxus saluted him and left in a hurry.

 

When Sendak had stripped down to his body suit, he made his way to the bedroom. His ears had picked up the rattle of chains and almost inaudible sobs coming from his slave. “Are you enjoying your position?” Sendak purred as he stepped through the threshold, leaning against the door frame to admire his form. His slave had managed to bend his knees, raising himself from the sheets. His back arched beautifully; muscles taut and metal bit in his mouth. He whipped his head to Sendak, eyes wild and body twitching. The desperate whines and groans were stifled by the metal. Sendak let his eyes trail down to his stiff cock, chuckling at the ring around it that buzzed intermittently. The plug in his ass was a vibrating one, it's soft hum in the background. “It seems that Haxus prepared you well,” he drawled, unclipping his suit slowly as he moved towards the bed. The slave's muffled screams was music to his ears, and Sendak chuckled darkly as he scrabbled against the bed, the chains rattling but inhibiting his escape.

 

“You almost put up a good fight earlier,” Sendak sat naked on the edge of the bed, running a hand along the damp skin. “I was disappointed in the end. You became too arrogant in your victories and misjudged your opponent.” He pressed a claw against the slave's nipple and watched his body jolt and try to twist away, screaming something in retort. He shook his head at Sendak, small tears in the corners of his eyes. “You _dare_ insult me?” Sendak pressed hard enough to draw blood, making the slave scream again in agony. He smashed his head against the pillows behind him, writhing and panting heavily. “...O!”  
“Oh?” Sendak pulled himself closer, lapping at the blood. “I don't understand, speak up.” He licked again, teasing the strange nub that made his slave choke back a moan. He tried to speak again, but it was incomprehensible. “Regardless, your loss and subsequent _display_ with that dreck has called into question my reputation, and I will not be disrespected.” Sendak settled himself on top of his chest, relaxing so the slave took all of his weight. Wild grey eyes looked pleadingly up at him as he struggled, making throaty groans and whimpers, his breathing quickly starting to falter as he writhed in desperation. A large smile formed on Sendak's lips and he slowly knelt up and gave the slave a few ticks to take deep breaths.

 

“You have rested enough,” he muttered. Sendak shifted to settle over the slaves hips, placing his prosthetic hand down against the skin. All splayed out, it was almost as wide as the broad chest. Sendak dug the claws in and slowly dragged them together; the slave letting out a pained shriek and rolling his head back, sweat running down his forehead. Sendak reopened the healing gouges and ignored the choked sobs from under him, more fascinated by the dark blood that contrasted against the pale skin. He hummed to himself as he smeared it across the slave's chest and bent down to lick the wounds he had inflicted clean. It was less metallic in taste compared to Galra blood. He teased his tongue in one of the gouges he'd made, chuckling as the scrabbling started again. His slave tried to buck him off: an inconsequential action.

 

Sendak moved again, this time between his spread legs. He nudged the plug with his finger, watching him squirm again. “I bet you'd like this out?” The slave's head nodded furiously in agreement and he pushed his hips towards Sendak, moaning at what the movement must have done internally. Sendak twisted the plug around roughly, before pulling it out and throwing it to the sheets. His golden eyes caught the small smile of relief as he dropped to the mattress, chest heaving. Sendak looked down at the twitching hole. He placed a finger inside up to the knuckle and curled it round, earning a garbled noise. “Would you like me to take the bit off?” He received a vigorous nod and leaned down, unclipping the mouthpiece.

 

He watched his slave close his eyes and swallow. He blinked slowly up at Sendak, eyes cloudy. “P-Please, Commander,” his voice was like a whisper as he raised his hips. Sendak let out a hollow laugh as he placed another finger in. “When I'm done playing with you. Patience.” He focused on massaging the hole; the toy was good to keep him looser, but he did enjoy making his slaves squirm by doing it himself. The moans and whimpers stirred the arousal in his gut, and made his cock stiffen quicker.

 

Sendak leaned down, pressing his tongue to his slave's cock. He bucked his hips and let out a low groan, the head leaking pre-come onto his abdomen. “You can get to work on this.” Sendak rose and dropped to his knees above his face. He pressed his cock against his lips. The slave glared at it, then him, but opened his mouth regardless. Sendak pushed himself down, grabbing his fringe and hitting the back of his throat with ease. “I should have you in this position more!” He laughed, quickening his pace.

 

If Shiro thought something could puncture his throat; this was it. Tears streamed down the sides of his face and any saliva he had made was trying to lubricate his dry throat in vain. His eyes rolled back, and somehow the entire thing got worse when Sendak moved his hand just above the collar and squeezed. Shiro choked. He couldn't handle this: it was too much. He coughed and spluttered, arms and legs thrashing about as he tried to scream through the thick dick in his mouth. Sendak pulled it out, letting it rest on Shiro's face, it's musky scent going straight up his nose. He lifted his head as best he could and tried to regulate his breathing again, coughing spit into Sendak's fur.

 

“How can you please me if you keep choking?” Sendak snapped, pushing himself in again. Shiro tried to make a noise of protest, but it was replaced by a pained croak as Sendak grabbed his abused hair again. He thrust slower into his mouth, but had taken to stroking his inner thighs with that prosthetic arm. Shiro hoped he wouldn't tear up the sensitive skin there. After what felt like forever and with a mix between a groan and a snarl, Sendak shot his come into Shiro's mouth. Shiro felt brief reprieve as he begrudgingly swallowed it down. “You look exquisite.” Sendak purred at him, smoothing the wet threads of saliva and come into Shiro's skin.

 

Shiro watched Sendak through tired eyes as he moved back to between his legs; an expression of pure glee on his face as he dragged his hand down Shiro's inner thigh. “You still need to learn how to pleasure me effectively.” Sendak pushed a clawed finger against his taint and earned a small hiss in response. “You've got the rest of your life to perfect it.” Shiro clung to the hope he'd have escaped long before then. He let out a quiet moan as Sendak fingered him vigorously, screwing his eyes shut.

 

The mattress moved beneath him, and he cracked open an eye to see Sendak releasing one of his legs. Shiro rotated the ankle and flexed the muscles; he'd been too distracted to by the toys and other pain that he'd become numb to the burning in his wrists and ankles. “It'll be easier like this.” Sendak muttered, holding the leg against his chest and pressing his cock against Shiro's hole. _Finally, I can be done of this_. Shiro pushed himself against the hardness, trying to ease him in. A dark growl came from above him.

 

A cold darkness smothered his face, the pressure enough to hurt but not crush his skull. “You _dare_? Don't you _think_ of pushing against me like you did that dreck from the arena!”  
“I didn't do it willingly!” Shiro rasped out, pulling at the restraints in blind panic. “You think I wanted it?”  
“I think your actions and the amount you begged is all the answer I need.” Sendak spat. Shiro felt the pressure around his entrance disappear, but wasn't prepared for the sharp claws slashing across his thigh, then slowly down the other. He shrieked, but it came out staggered. Sendak snarled again as his chest was clawed at. “You.” A slash. “Are.” Another slash. “Mine.” A final slash. The pain fired through his body until he couldn't take it. Shiro let his body fall lax. The physical and mental exhaustion from the arena, the multiple violations, and the stress had finally fried his mind. He was done.

 

He felt numb to the the hardness as it pushed its way inside him roughly. The grunts felt like they were miles away; somewhat muffled by the ringing in his ears. He was aware his body was moving, but he didn't feel any connection. It was like he could almost get out of this vessel made of flesh and float away, but something still anchored him here. Maybe it was because the darkness has lifted, and something cold was clutching him under his body. At least he was being compliant. Haxus would let him know where Matt and Sam were then. Sendak couldn't be angry any more, he wasn't fighting him or running his mouth. He was a good boy. Poster boy of the Garrison. Ace pilot and Lieutenant; Takashi Shirogane. Shoulder number 13589. Good boy. His interior monologue was getting caught up in the static, until it was all he could hear.

 

He was too pliant and quiet. Sendak growled low and gave a sharp thrust. It earned nothing but an almost inaudible squeak. He clamped his prosthetic harder around the slave's waist, squeezing him. Nothing but him tensing, and Sendak wasn't sure his slave was aware of what his body was doing. He didn't like this. They either fought back or screamed; there was never disconcerting silence. “Where is your self-respect? What happened to the fight that burned inside you?” He snarled, baring down over the limp body. He pulled the slave's face from the side and growled at the glassy eyes that seemed to stare right through him. Sendak let his face droop back to the side and let out a long hiss. He was close, but what kind of claim was he making to his slave if it was unresponsive? There was no honour in claiming a victory when the enemy surrendered, and it was the same case here.

 

Sendak came hard into his slave. He removed the ring, which had stopped vibrating a while ago now, and stroked his slave to orgasm while he waited for his own cock to soften before he removed himself. He dropped the slave to the bed, wondering if he would move by his own accord. He didn't, just laid there breathing heavily. “Slave. Look at me.” Sendak felt something knot in his stomach. It was like he was being mocked; that his slave dared disrespect him by feigning ignorance. He unshackled his other leg and then each arm. The slave remained where he was, staring like Sendak didn't exist. He let out feral snarl, lips pulled back as he drew his hand up.

 

Shiro was brought out of the static when it felt like a brick had been smashed into his face. He yelled out, nursing his burning cheek and curling in on himself. There was something warm everywhere and he couldn't tell whether it was inside or outside. He uncurled himself, a strained noise rising in his throat as he noticed all the blood. “You are responsive, finally.” Sendak was sat naked beside him, his claws and cock covered in blood, likely Shiro's. “Did I make you angry?”  
“You did.”  
“Are you happy now?” His voice was barely audible. There was a long pause, but no answer came. Shiro lifted his head slowly, pulling himself closer to Sendak and nuzzling into his chest. “Let me do better. I won't disappoint you again. I promise.”  
“On your honour?” Sendak tugged at his collar, rubbing his fingertip over Shiro's Adam's apple. Shiro took Sendak's bloody hand in his and raised it to his mouth and tentatively licked over the top of one of the claws. “On my honour.” His mind was numb to everything right now, the only thing that he knew was that if he swore on his honour, that would make Sendak happy. If he was happy he would get information. Information meant he could plan his next steps.

 

Sendak was confused with his slave. It was like he rebooted into another person after his trance or whatever it was he'd done. He observed him make gentle licks over his fingers and palms, occasionally placing a single digit in his mouth to suck and lap away the blood. “You swear you didn't enjoy what the dreck did to you?” He pulled the slave up into his lap, steadying him in place. “I swear.” He placed his hands on Sendak's shoulders, staring him in the eyes. “You'd be able to tell if I was lying.” Sendak hummed in agreement, running his slightly damp fingers through his slave's hair. “I need to finish.” He muttered, leaning down and taking Sendak in his mouth. Sendak grunted, tightening his grip on his scalp as he watched. He'd planned to grab a bath but this would do for now. It also seemed his human was better at giving oral then he'd been led to believe. Sendak glanced over the slave's body; though a bloody mess, he did enjoy seeing his come dripping down between his legs. He purred, flopping back and letting the human work him thoroughly in his hands. Perhaps he could come again today – it had been a long one.

 

-

 

He felt on the verge of passing out as Sendak carried him. They were going back to his cell apparently. The purple light hurt his eyes, but it was compounded on the pain coursing through his entire body. They'd fucked again; Sendak had let him ride him this time. No chains, no hair pulling, no bit or plugs. It could almost be considered 'normal' if he hadn't been screaming for the Commander to fuck him, on his order of course. He'd been shown some kindness as well; some salted meat that was like jerky, a drink, his wounds bandaged and cleaned, and a new set of clothes. He rubbed small circles into the back of the Commander's armour, but he probably couldn't feel it.

 

Something hissed and they stepped into a slightly darker room. Sendak tensed for a moment, which roused Shiro to look round. His heart skipped a beat; Nadiva was there. “Calm.” Sendak's voice was cold as he paced to the other side of the room, setting Shiro down on the cot. _This isn't my cell._ He watched Sendak move towards Nadiva, curled on the floor and panting.

 

“You took my slave without my permission.”  
“You sent him to the arena. He was fair game, especially with what he's taken from me. Filthy half-breed.”  
“In what sense?”  
“Ch- Clearly Galra. Why else would you make him your pleasure slave?” Nadiva pulled himself up to his knees; the left side of his face was swollen and what looked like fresh blood dripped down from his hairline. He glared defiantly at Sendak, teeth clenched together tightly. Sendak threw his head back, laughing haughtily as he turned to look back at Shiro. “He's just a Terran, or Earthling. Not a drop of Galra blood in there.”  
“He fights just like your kind!” There was something that wavered in his tone that Shiro noticed, and it seemed Sendak must of as well. He grabbed Nadiva by the horn, lifting him clean off the floor. “I said he is not Galra. His fighting is at least more honourable than yours ever will be!” Shiro could imagine those sharp teeth bared, as he watched Sendak throw Nadiva to the ground, the crack sounded painful. Nadiva screeched, eyes wide as he saw the piece of horn that had broken off in Sendak's hand.

 

“It seems someone has rightly roughed you up, but now you will pay for using what is mine. Watch, slave.” Sendak's face was thunderous, and Shiro quickly pushed himself up to attention as Sendak stamped hard on Nadiva's back, crushing his heel into his shoulder blade. There was a deadly grin on his face as he tossed the horn to his prosthetic hand, and stabbed it through one of Nadiva's long, silvery hands. His scream made Shiro's ears ring in pain. “This is how you dominate.” Sendak muttered as he leaned down and tore open the thin garb around the other shoulder blade. He yanked the small point that protruded out, and with another shrill scream, pulled out the appendage. Nadiva snapped his jaws, trying to move away, but Sendak was unrelenting. As soon as half of it was out, he brought his prosthetic claws to life, searing through the limb like hot butter.

 

The pain in Nadiva's voice was real. He recoiled as best he could, but Sendak refused to give up. Grabbing him firmly by the hair, he forced his head up to look directly at Shiro. He brought the still hot claws round in front of him. “What did my slave take from you?”  
“F-Fuck you!” Sendak placed a finger against his cheek, the heat searing a mark into his skin. The room smelt like burning flesh. “Again.”  
“Fuck you!” Sendak placed a second finger against the skin. Nadiva choked out a cry, trying to pull away. “Again.”  
“My sight!” Nadiva's brow was covered in sweat, his breath hitching. Sendak removed his claws and slowly dragged them down his body, hovering above the hemipenes. “Which eye?” It was a chilling whisper that made Nadiva's face pale. “Left.” Sendak clamped down on the hemipene and motioned for Shiro to come over. He did as instructed, standing above Nadiva. He'd lost more of his other horn; so someone other than Sendak had been here.

 

“Remove his left eye. That's an order.” It was military coldness, much like how he used to have to talk to recruits during mock exercises. Shiro dropped down to his knees, bringing his hand up to Nadiva's face. It wasn't on the swollen side, that made this easier. “Since he used you, you're well within your right to take it.” Sendak whispered. Shiro hummed in agreement, moving his fingers towards Nadiva's face. Since he was bigger than Shiro, at least it meant gouging it would be easier. He pushed his fingers in, not actually sure how he was supposed to gouge an eye now he thought about it. It didn't help that Nadiva wouldn't stop screaming. Shiro grabbed the right horn, pushing his head back. “Shut your mouth!” He hissed, gaining some purchase on the wet eye. He eased his fingers back, feeling the eye become looser, tendons and muscles snapping one by one. Nadiva let out a final screech.

 

Sendak could not be more pleased as his slave fell back onto his knees, clutching the eye in his bloody fingers. He dropped Nadiva's body to the floor. He was still breathing, but at worst he had passed out. “Use one of your bandages on the wound.” Sendak held out his prosthetic palm, the slave placing the eye in it before untying one of the wrist bandages. “I need something to compress it with.” Sendak hummed and ripped some of the cloth from Nadiva's body, passing it to him. He watched his slave dutifully bandage Nadiva up, and looked to Sendak. “You may rest. I am pleased with you today.” He nodded and climbed into the cot. He flopped down away from Sendak, curling in on himself.

 

Sendak turned back to Nadiva's passed out form on the floor. Lifting him by the back of his clothes, he dumped him on the other cot. He pulled the horn from his hand and wrapped the wound in another piece of cloth. He paused, fingers brushing the handcuffs on his belt. He could cuff him, but then if anything _happened_ by the morning, well, that's what happens when you keep gladiators together. He pushed Nadiva onto his side, noting the tear at the base of his body suit, the fabric stained and the skin smeared with purple blood. He picked up the appendage he'd ripped off and stalked from the room, locking the door behind him.

 

-

 

“I'm wary about it.”  
“The rota change?”  
“Yes.” Ulaz fiddled with his glass. “I don't trust it.” He looked to Thace and Krolia, who were sat opposite him. “I think you're stressing yourself out.” Krolia mused, downing the last few sips of her drink. “This is what he means, you get reckless when you overthink.” She set her glass down with a clatter and rose, smoothing out her body suit. “I've got to get back to the cruiser. I'll see you whenever.” She waved her hand as she walked away, small smile on her face. Ulaz scowled at the glass in front of him. Krolia was wonderful but difficult at times to talk to, he didn't want to accept she may be slightly correct.

 

“She's probably thinking about her kit. Don't let it get to you.” Thace patted Ulaz's hand gently. “I know. It's just how Sendak is with his slaves. It's the silence when you ask them how they obtained the injuries, but you know damn well why they're torn to shreds. I sometimes wake up in the morning and think 'what's the point?'.” Ulaz quietly thanked the server who placed another drink in front of him. “I know what I need to be doing, however it's draining after deca-phoebs.” He downed half of the bitter drink in front of him. Thace squeezed his hand. “You care a lot about the work you do, the little aliens you see. I couldn't do it, honestly.” Thace gave him a toothy smile. “Wanna come back to mine tonight?”  
“Yeah I would. I need the space.”  
“Thought so.” Thace stretched himself out as he rose from the chair. Ulaz downed his drink and stood, stumbling to the side.

 

It felt like a long walk back to Thace's small apartment in Central. As soon as they were through the door Ulaz wandered over to his sofa and flopped down over the arm. “Are you sleeping _there_ tonight?” Thace slipped his armour off and placed it on the counter near his door. “I'm getting you a glass of water.”  
“Thank you.” Ulaz chuckled at the snort from the small kitchenette. It was good to see the others from time to time, as unless they were called back to headquarters, they rarely saw other each other. Thace set the water down on his small table and sat beside Ulaz, lightly playing with his fur. Ulaz let out a low purr and closed his eyes.

 

“I remember when I used to do that to you. Gods, that was how many deca-phoebs ago?”  
“Maybe about three hundred? It's hard to remember.”  
“Kolivan scolded me you know.” Ulaz chuckled, running his hand over Thace's thigh. “I imagine he did. Was that...when Regris first joined?”  
“About then I think. I remember you joining, Krolia, Antok, and everyone else. I do miss teaching from time to time, but it's nice not being caged up there either.”  
“That's true. Kolivan said in ten deca-phoebs he may let me start instructing.”  
“That's really good news. You're patient, you'll do well.” Ulaz picked himself up, taking the drink. “I should probably sleep. Early shift and all.” He glanced at Thace, who gave him a warm smile.

 

-

 

“You wanted to see me, Commander?”  
“Sit.” Sendak motioned to his sofas and the two settled opposite each other. Sendak leaned forward, taking Haxus in. “The meeting with Zarkon related to Voltron. The Red Lion as potentially been found by rebels, and High Command has been called to remain in Central for the foreseeable future. I am going to be putting forward my choice for who will take over responsibilities for the prisoners, and since you are the only person aboard who I think can manage it, I will be putting you forward. Is this acceptable?” He smirked at the wide eyed look on Haxus's face. He looked at his feet, then back at Sendak. “I-I am honoured you would consider me. Of course, without a doubt I will take the responsibility.” Haxus sat up straight, a giddy smile plastered over his face. “That's good. I just need to give you one little bit of advice; you can rough up the prisoners, but fucking them is a no. Only slaves can be used as such, or have you forgotten?” Sendak growled.

 

Haxus crumbled beneath his steely gaze. “How did you...?”  
“I checked the logs after seeing the damage myself.”  
“I...he _deserved_ it after what he did.”  
“I'm leaving that primarily up to the slave to sort out. I roughed him up for assaulting my property, but the slave is capable of fighting his own battles if he is to survive.” Sendak leaned back, scrutinising Haxus. “Are we clear?”  
“Crystal, Commander.”  
“I will overlook this indiscretion once and only once. He will be gone before tomorrows' night-cycle to whoever wins him.” Sendak shrugged his shoulders. “I know you are fond of him, but I will not allow my trusted friend to be stripped of his rank because he got a bit emotional about a slave no less.” He watched Haxus nod slowly to himself, swallowing an obvious lump in his throat. “Thank you, Commander.”  
“That is all. I must type and submit my report.” He rose, and Haxus quickly took his leave.

 

-

 

Ulaz was a little later than he should have been returning to the ship. He cursed to himself as he ran through the corridors towards his office. As he rounded the corner, he spotted four sentries with two bodies. Narrowing his eyes, Ulaz jogged to a halt in front of them. _By the mercy of the Gods._ “Put them both in the healing chambers _immediately_.” He hammered the button to the medical room and shot inside. The sentries dragged the two in and roughly and pushed them upright in the tanks, strapping them in tight. Ulaz shooed them from the room as he set the pods to run full body scans as he quickly slipped the breathing masks over their faces. He shot a glance over at the silvery skinned one, grinding his teeth in frustration. That one would need the most work at a preliminary glance. As the tanks filled with orange fluid, Ulaz smashed his fingers against the touchpad; he needed words with the Commander about this.

 

It was about half a varga until Sendak deigned him an appearance. He glanced at the two figures in the tank, before rounding on Ulaz. “You have them healing. What do you need me for?” Curt as ever. “I would like to know how Nadiva has ended up missing one of his retractable limbs, why there are burn marks on his body, why he is missing an eye, the horn damage...and most importantly why he was not treated after his fight as is standard? Your slave, well, I already have my guesses.”  
“What's that supposed to mean?” Sendak feigned ignorance, making the rage Ulaz kept inside him bubble to the boil. “Commander, I have been your medical officer for deca-phoebs. I know what you are capable of.” Ulaz kept his calm; rising to Sendak's games was a path he would not walk. Regardless, he couldn't tell his superior what to do – only advise.

 

Sendak smirked to himself as he wandered to Nadiva's tank. “I'm not sure. It's possible that my slave took it out on him in their cell. You never really can tell with these humans what they'll do next.” There was the smallest purr in his voice that made Ulaz want to drop his cover and just gut Sendak like the worm he was. However he had to keep up the persona for the greater mission. “Was that all you wanted? I could have messaged you back. I am busy at present.” Sendak gazed at Ulaz's reflection in the tank. “I need your permission to implant a cybernetic eye for Nadiva.”  
“I suppose I could grant that,” Sendak held out his hand and took the tablet that Ulaz gave him, quickly signing the request off.

 

“So why is my slave in a tank?”  
“He's got hairline fractures, a new set of gouges over his chest that weren't there yesterday, internal rectal damage, his throat is inflamed, and his vitals are showing dehydration.” Ulaz muttered as he pointed to each section. “I presume you will want him later?”  
“I would.”  
“Medical opinion is that he needs time to heal and plenty of fluids and sustenance.” His voice was cold, detached. “I will take that into consideration.” Sendak kept his cool and placed the tablet on the side of the terminal. “Is that all?”  
“Yes, sir.” Ulaz saluted Sendak as he left, glaring daggers at his back. He needed to get to work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my updating schedule may move from Tuesdays. I've been weighing up a weekly one, and I think unless stated it's best to assume once a week, but I may try releasing them as I finish, because I'm estimating a possibly 20-chapter fic *minimum* right now, and weekly updates seem a bit mad.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


	7. Rumination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they were roommates...
> 
> A short but dialogue-heavy chapter. We're moving into our first time skip, which won't be by much, after this.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, leaving kudos, and of course comments. It's great to see your posts!

Shiro yawned, his heavy eyes slowly blinking open. He rubbed his face as he sat up slowly, wondering when his slab had got that comfortable. He paused as he caught something orange and glowing to his left. He whipped his head around to catch an alien – no – Nadiva sat opposite him, knee up and arm slung over it. His other leg swung slowly in small circles. “You're awake then.” There was something despondent in his tone. “What are you doing here?” Shiro tensed, raising his fists. Nadiva made a half-hearted snort. “How much do you remember from yesterday? Or should I ask how much do you _want_ to remember?” He moved the rest of his face into the light, and Shiro noticed the lack of horns.

 

“What happened to you?”  
“You, Haxus and Sendak.” He spat their names with venom. “I remember bits of yesterday but, something else happened, didn't it?”  
“You could say that. Would you like a reminder, Shiro?”  
“When did I tell you my-” It was like his memories were a derailed train hitting a wall at top speed. He stared at his hands, at Nadiva, at the cell, and grasped the sides of his head, eyes screwing themselves shut. “You remembered I take it?”  
“You _raped_ me!”  
“Trust me when I say that the act of forcing myself on you is not something I would actively do to people I am engaged in combat with. It was my way of...trying to stay alive.”  
“Let's call it what it is!” Shiro seethed, pushing himself from the cot and advanced on Nadiva. He grabbed his collar, yanking him close to his face. “You humiliated me in front of the Empire, which meant not only you, but Haxus and Sendak fucked me up yesterday.”  
“Well aren't we both _lucky_.” Nadiva's laugh was hollow. “That lanky bastard had me as well. Be grateful Sendak didn't rip off your limbs, although you ripped this out.” He pointed to his cybernetic eye.

 

“What do you mean?”  
“What I said. You gouged it out of my face while Sendak held me down. Where do you think these little burn marks came from?” He poked at his cheek. “You weren't the only one violated.” Nadiva wrapped his long fingers around Shiro's wrist and gently pulled it away. “I understand; that I hurt you. My actions are inexcusable, but please be assured I will be gone from your presence by the end of the day.”  
“What do you mean?” Shiro folded his arms across his chest. “I'm getting sold.”  
“Why?”  
“It's what they do with gladiators. We get to stick around for entertainment, and if you're the Champion, which I am now, I'll be sold off to some Commander or Zarkon. Gladiators don't get collars like that,” he tapped Shiro's collar, “usually it's half-breeds who are forced to become pleasure slaves, hence why I thought you were Galra.” Nadiva pushed himself back against the wall and closed his eye. “I was wrong about that. Whether you can accept my sincerest apologies, I don't know, but I need to survive for the people I care for, and I didn't particularly want to kill you either. You're a prisoner just like me, we need to band together.”

 

Shiro moved back to his cot and flopped down. “I can't accept it.”  
“I know.”  
“Why didn't you want to kill me?”  
“For the reasons I said.”  
“Nothing ulterior?” Shiro stared at the ceiling, trying to process the fact he was having a chat with his rapist. He supposed that he'd still have to communicate with Sendak and Haxus. He scowled at the ceiling, wondering how he was going to be able to contain his anger. He had to make sure he didn't get himself killed.  
“You and I are similar; I have those who I will protect, as do you. It's why you put on a facade for the arena.” Nadiva finally spoke, opening his yellow-green eye and studied Shiro intently. Shiro sat up frowning. “What makes you say that?”  
“The fact you injured the little one, who I heard was terrified of going in first. Also how you are. If you were truly as bloodthirsty as you were in the arena, we would be fighting right now.” Nadiva paused, looking at his claws.

 

“Someone who cares for their kin and does what they have to do are people I will take the time to know. So I spared you because I wanted to talk to you, tell you about the rebels who fight Zarkon and his destructive empire, and hope that you will aid us.”  
“You got yourself captured to recruit people?” Shiro snorted, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”  
“I was captured and forced to execute my entire crew before being carted off to the main fleet. The Druids likely pulled information from me about the rebels, however I'm hoping the message I sent got through to our leader before the ship was over-ran.” Nadiva's gaze stayed fixated on his claws, voice monotone. “Do you not care for your crew?”  
“I do, but the mission is of greater import than the lives. That, and one of my comrades gave us up to the Galra.” Nadiva shrugged his shoulders. “They just wanted to survive I suppose.”  
“How can you sit and talk so matter-of-fact about this?”  
“Because I have faced death down more times than I can count. How did the Galra come across you?”  
“They found us exploring the furtherest reaches of our solar system.”  
“They have not invaded your planet?”  
“No. Until a few weeks ago, we'd never met an alien species.” Shiro sat cross-legged on his bed. “So the rebels, the Galra, what I've seen; I don't know what to do, I don't know what's right any more.”  
“Being a prisoner of the Galra will do that to you. You end up committing the most unspeakable actions.”  
“Like you and me?”  
“Exactly. They will break us down and reform us given the chance. It is why I am cruel and cold, why I do what I do. I will not yield, and will await a rescue from my comrades. We've done it before, and will do it again.”

 

This peaked Shiro's interest. “You've busted out prisoners before?”  
“On several occasions, yes.”  
“If I agreed to join you in the rebellion, could you guarantee my friends' rescue?” Shiro's gaze hardened, and a small crooked smile sat on Nadiva's lips. “I could guarantee it _would_ happen, but _when_ I couldn't say. You'd need to prove yourself; there's a lot of people to save. There's so many types of slaves and places they keep them, and everyone's lost someone over the last ten thousand deca-phoebs under Zarkon's regime.”  
“Ten thousand _years_?”  
“Deca-phoebs.”  
“How? How has he survived so long?”  
“We do not know. The Galra demand quintessence, so it's reasonable to assume that it gives him power. It does heal, as we both know.” Nadiva touched his cybernetic eye, and Shiro looked to his wrists, it was if he'd never been shackled to the bed last night.

 

The two basked in silence together. Food and water was posted through the small door on the floor for them at some point. Nadiva brought Shiro his food, and the two ate with mild chatter about their respective homes. Nadiva had lost his home world to the Galra when he was only two deca-phoebs old and was raised in an asteroid belt for many deca-phoebs with the rebels. Shiro in turn explained Earth was in a post-war period after the events of World War Three and the Galaxy Garrison.

 

“Have you never experienced actual combat? I find that very surprising.” Nadiva cocked an eyebrow, setting the tray next to him. “No. Only exercises and simulations.”  
“So this has been the first time you have had to kill?” Nadiva's voice was gentle compared to the monotone Shiro had been used to. He scowled into his food goo, chewing his tongue. “Yes.”  
“It doesn't get easier. You must be careful you do not lose yourself.”  
“I rely on my training and the bloodthirsty facade. If I humanise them, then I'll end up dead.” Shiro snorted, guzzling his water. “It will only get you so far.” Nadiva rose from his cot, stretching out his body. “If you continue down your path you will become like them.”  
“The Galra?”  
“Yes.”  
“What do you do then? You use a facade yourself.” Shiro set his water down in his lap, tightening the grip on the bottle. “I carry each death with me, as is customary with my people.”  
“But you just kill more innocent people, especially now as Champion.”  
“That's true,” Nadiva leaned down to touch his toes, “however my resolve increases so I may kill Galra and criminals and honour the fallen.”  
“It sounds like you're okay with the sacrifice of the innocent so long as the means justify the ends.” Shiro shifted in his position awkwardly. “I don't think we will agree on a philosophy, Shiro, but consider it. You're ultimately the one to walk your own path.” Nadiva shook his arms and took a fighting stance, loosing a punch into the air.

 

Shiro watched Nadiva run through his stances, curious at ones he'd not seen before and how the body before him moved. “You say I'm a pleasure slave, but would I count as a gladiator?” Shiro piped up, moving his legs over the side of the cot. Nadiva observed him through the cybernetic eye for a moment. “Technically, yes.”  
“Are there other gladiators aside from you, Myzax and myself?”  
“Yeah. Most of the commanders keep them.”  
“Do they all train together?” Shiro pushed himself to the floor. Nadiva pulled himself from his stance and studied Shiro curiously. “They do so far as I am aware.”  
“Similar to the gladiators of old back on Earth then.” He paced around the cell, frowning at the metal beneath his feet. “I'll need Sendak's permission to fight, right?”  
“Correct.” Nadiva settled on his bed. “The old hairball is possessive, as I'm sure you realised.” Shiro nodded curtly, wrinkling his nose at the images that sat clearly in his mind's eye. He stopped, staring hard at the floor. “I know what I have to do.”  
“Don't let him break you. The man who gouged my eye out last night was not the man I fought in the arena.” Nadiva pulled his legs up and pushed himself back into the wall.

 

Shiro's gaze remained glued to the floor. He didn't know what had happened last night except he zoned out at some point. “I'm sorry.”  
“It's not your fault. You were just trying to survive.”  
“I don't even know if I was? I _went_ to him the second time-”  
“Second time?”  
“Y-Yeah. He struck me, and I guess I just...woke up? I don't know. I just remember bits...wanting to make sure he wouldn't be angry. Everything hurt, I didn't want to go through it all again, wind up dead.” He dropped down to his knees, running his hands through his hair. “I'm scared I _enjoyed_ it. He didn't chain me the second time.”  
“Your body cannot help how it reacts.”  
“That seems rich coming from you.” Shiro sneered. “That's because I pumped you full of aphrodisiacs. You only 'enjoyed' it because your brain was confused into enjoying it. You aroused me with how you acted under it's effects-” Nadiva managed to grab Shiro by the wrists as he charged, his face livid. “Don't you _dare_.”  
“If it will make you feel better,” Nadiva pushed Shiro away and pulled off the clean shirt he wore, remaining in his tight bodysuit, “you may do the same to me. It's fine. I deserve it.”  
“What the fuck is this? Are you trying to guilt me?”  
“No. I don't know what 'guilt' is either. Things just are, and you move on. Sometimes it is harder then others, but you get through it. It's fine, really. It's fair.” Nadiva pulled himself to the edge of his cot, resting on his knees. “Use me to your hearts content.” He lowered his head, awaiting his retribution.

 

Shiro was frozen in place. He couldn't – refused – to believe that this was happening. “I can't do this. It'll make me just as bad as Sendak and Haxus.”  
“And me.”  
“Yeah.” Shiro swallowed. He moved away from Nadiva back to his cot, clutching the side tightly. “You realise you would suffer no consequences?”  
“Sendak would have my head.”  
“Doubtful. I violated his property – you – and he would see you in good favour for exacting revenge.” Nadiva narrowed his eyes at the derisive snort. “It would put you in a good position to get back to the arena. You have 'defeated' the Champion in his eyes, he would be giddy with happiness to see you kill me in a legitimate arena match. It would be by your own merit.” Shiro trained his steely gaze on Nadiva. “Why do I feel you're leading me into a trap? Or you just want me to fuck you?”

 

Nadiva shrugged his shoulders. “I do find you aesthetically pleasing I won't lie. However I want to become allies with you, and if this would make you happier to side with me, I will do what it takes.”  
“So you're an opportunist?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then I wouldn't really be raping you, am I?”  
“You didn't want to anyway.” Nadiva pulled himself from his cot and took a step towards Shiro. “Is it easier if I consent to it?” Shiro shifted his gaze to the thin sheet on the mattress. It would be easier if it was consensual, and if what Nadiva said was true, it would help him get further. It was just _if_ it was true. However, the vile voice in the back of Shiro's head had reared it's ugly face.

 

 _Do it. No repercussions? May as well. When will be the next time you have any control, really? You're a slave; an object, a fleshlight with a pulse. He wants it, he wants you to fuck him. When was the last time anyone begged like that? You always give but never take._ But he did take; he took away the relationship from Adam. _But did he really care? He thought you were weak and pathetic – couldn't handle a mission in space? Refused to listen to you and got angry because you wanted to do something worthwhile before you died. You got engaged to him without really meaning it, all because he wanted to marry. You did it for him, you gave in when you shouldn't of. Look at him, you can fuck him up and just say it's how humans fuck, what would he know? We can do this, we should do this. Take back control before it's ripped from us again. Before we're humiliated and treated worse than a dog._ I'd be a terrible human though. _What does being human in space mean? This place doesn't conform to the ethics of human society, so why should we when we need to survive. Look after yourself so you can look after the Holts. We need to look after the Holts, Shiro, otherwise we've failed. Failure is not an option. Take back control and fuck him up._

 

“Are you okay, Shiro?” Nadiva put a tentative hand on his shoulder, uncertain why the human had started trembling and uttering incoherent words to himself. Shiro's head tilted to look at the hand on his shoulder. He brushed his fingers over the warm silvery skin before pushing it away. “I'm fine.” He crawled under the blanket and curled in on himself. “You are done talking I see.” Nadiva studied Shiro before moving back to his own cot and laid down. “Once I get to the arena to train with you, I'll let you know about the rebel stuff.” Shiro stared at the wall, and let himself slowly drift off. He needed sleep. Today was too much.

 

Shiro roused from his sleep as a hand gently nudged him. He opened his groggy eyes to find Nadiva leaning over him. “What?” He yawned, pushing the hand away as he sat up. “Food has appeared again.” Nadiva motioned to the trays on the floor. Shiro looked around, blinking slowly. “Is it already tomorrow?”  
“I'm sure it's only been a few vargas.” Nadiva paced towards the trays and brought Shiro's his again. “It's strange.” Nadiva sniffed his food. “Did you every get two portions?” He watched Shiro shake his head. “Don't do that in front of the Galra.”  
“Already have. Found out it hurts.” Shiro unscrewed the cap and took a swig of water, poking at the food with a look of disdain. “I don't know why it's offensive.”  
“It's something about disrespecting the speaker – you're too important for them to listen, when they outrank you.”  
“They really don't understand context.”  
“No, they really don't.” Nadiva smiled a little as he set his spoon down.

 

The two sat in mild conversation for a while before the door clicked, then beeped. They shielded their eyes as the light flooded into their dull cell, but was quickly blocked by a huge figure in the doorway. “Champion, here.” The voice was rough and strangely accented. Shiro watched Nadiva close his eye, then slowly rise from his cot and stare at the newcomer. “Who are you to come in and summon me like a pet?”  
“Hehe. You are a feisty one, aren't you? I am Commander Ranveig, also known by the title of Warlord.” He took a pace towards Nadiva. “I brought you, and you are mine. Here, now.” Nadiva stifled back a snort but paced over slowly to Ranveig, standing a head under the huge Galra. He was bigger than Sendak. Ranveig roughly twisted him round and drew his arms up locking them into place and shoved Nadiva through the door. He cast a crooked grin back at Shiro, before another figure stepped into the room, the prosthetic hanging dangerously at his side. Sendak. “You will be escorted to my quarters.” His voice was cold, and something sunk in Shiro's gut. _Not again._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to start chapter 8 but ahh, this chapter took a bit longer to sort since today's been really crap. I left my phone at work and feel naked without it. Or at least I hope I've left it at work.


	8. Misconception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We pick up a few weeks after Nadiva leaves with Ranveig. I wonder what fun Shiro's going to have this time?
> 
> Some fun.
> 
> Not as much as he probably should though.
> 
> Pretty much say goodbye to my updating schedule, it's kinda as I go at this point.
> 
> Thank you all again for the comments and kudos!

Shiro stumbled forwards towards the toilet, grabbing the sides as he heaved the contents of his stomach into the water. He coughed and spluttered, eyes watering and snot running from his nose as he hacked up more sick. His body was drenched in a clammy sweat, and he couldn't remember if it was three or four days ago since he'd been allowed to bathe. Not days, that was wrong; quintant, that was it. He rested his forehead against the rim. It was cold, it was soothing, like the feeling against his back right now. He settled down on the floor and eased himself over, cursing as the icy metal bit at the open wounds. Maybe he should have just stayed where he was. God, Adam was right, he should have never came on this mission.

 

Since Nadiva was taken away by Ranveig, he'd spent most of his time in Sendak's quarters fulfilling his duties as a slave when he was onboard. He was never allowed out unaccompanied, but Sendak had started to ask him to do menial things, like pour him a drink or request food to the quarters after showing him how to use the communicator. He'd been take up to the bridge a few quintants' ago; Sendak had affixed some energy rope to his collar and literally dragged him naked like an unruly dog through the corridors. He exhaled sharply as he shifted onto his bruised shoulder. Shiro tugged at his collar absently.

 

Dealing with the first time Sendak took him unwillingly was harder to process than he thought. The voice in the back of his head screamed to fight back; do anything other than be compliant and subservient. He knew what he _should_ be doing but _couldn't_ act on it, and he wasn't sure if it was fear that short-circuited his drive to fight. It didn't help that Sendak couldn't decide if he liked him passive or not. Some nights he'd be growling in his ear that he was pleased Shiro knew his place; others he'd be tearing him apart and fracturing bones when he went in dry. He had a rainbow of bruises over his skin; the oldest around his ribs were turning yellow and brown now. He had a few green, blue and purple ones along his thighs – most around his hips. He snarled a curse out and rubbed his bruised face; he no longer had any way to vent his anger, and it was all grinding him down slowly through exhaustion.

 

He still wanted to ask Sendak if he could join the other gladiators, which was why he'd been behaving in the first place, but the chance hadn't presented itself since he was ordered to remain silence. He crawled to his bed, pulling himself up and took one of the bottles of water he'd hidden in the blanket. Sleep now.

 

-

 

“How did you get these marks?”  
“Is there any point in asking?” Shiro stared at the wall as the medical officer, Ulaz, washed the blood from his back. “I have to ask, Shiro.” Ulaz sighed as he dabbed along the long tear. This was the first time in a movement he'd seen the human; and it was as bad as he expected. The gouges Sendak left a few movements' ago across his chest hadn't healed properly even with quintessence, but that was likely because Sendak hadn't _let_ it heal. There was one small gouge left from Nadiva across his nipple, which had just scarred over by this point. Outside of more cuts, there were plenty of bruises littered across his body.

 

Shiro hissed when Ulaz pressed lightly over his swollen fingers, ripping his hand away. “Are you going to tell me how they got broken?” Ulaz quietly asked.  
“Again, what's the point? You know this was all done by _him_.” Shiro snapped, drawing his hand close to his chest. Ulaz bit his lip as he pulled away. “I can't give you any quintessence because you've exceeded the healthy dosage for the month when I fixed the fractures, but I can give you drugs to numb the pain and slowly repair the damage. I'll make you some splints to straighten out your fingers, but aside from that all I can advise Sendak is to leave you to recuperate.”  
“He won't let me. Every single day, it's just me and him, or I'm alone, or I'm here. That's it, that's what my life's become; fucked, beaten, healed; rinse and repeat.” Shiro punched the metal table with his right hand, glaring hard at the floor.

 

“I'll get the antiseptic for your open wounds and the drugs. I'm giving you a smaller dosage because these are used for adult Galra. Usual heal time for us is between four and six quintants.”  
“That's pretty quick.” Shiro mused.  
“You've finally learned what a quintant is?”  
“Sendak's been teaching me. He doesn't like me using Earth terms for time,” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, his brow creasing lightly. “Well Earth terms aren't applicable in space, but I suppose it's because you're used to these measurements?”  
“Obviously.” Shiro leaned forward as Ulaz applied the gel to his back. He let out a small growl under his breath like normal. “It always feels like it's burning my skin.”  
“You don't come out in a rash, so that's most important.” Ulaz muttered, smoothing it in to the pale skin. “Is your pallor supposed to change?” Shiro turned his head, giving Ulaz a bemused look. “No. It pales because we're ill, usually.”  
“You don't seem to be feverish or displaying any known infections. I've already checked you for that.” Ulaz slowly caught Shiro's face and leaned down to stare into his eyes. “What illness do you have?” Shiro took his wrist in his hand, pulling it away. “I'm stressed. I'm surprised it's taken this long to work it out.” He turned back around to stare at the wall.

 

Ulaz studied Shiro. He was usually snappy and curt with him, but lately there was something different in his mannerisms. He looked down at the collar. Quickly checking around, he placed his finger against it, the metal clicking. He slowly pulled it from Shiro's neck, the human beneath tense. “Why did you do that?”  
“I need to check your neck for sores.” Ulaz lied. “I realised I applied the gel too early. You need to be clean. You can use the shower room – there's some neutral gels you can wash with that shouldn't aggravate the wounds.” Ulaz moved away from Shiro to his terminal, watching him from the corner of his eye. Shiro sat there delicately stroking his neck with his eyes closed. He almost looked peaceful.

 

Shiro slipped off the table and made for the door. “You need to let me get in, right?”  
“Yes.” Ulaz locked the terminal and jogged over, letting the pair out. “Since those clothes are filthy I'll get another pair for you. Also you'll need to eat something of substance with the drugs I'm prescribing you, so I'll get you some food and water.” Ulaz muttered as they walked down the corridor. He flagged the sentry and gave it quick instructions to let no one but him collect the slave from the shower room afterwards. “I will leave this sentry standing watch over you while I collect things. Take your time and be thorough.” He patted Shiro lightly on the shoulder. Shiro nodded slowly and stepped cautiously into the room.

 

It took longer to find clothes that were small enough for Shiro to wear then he thought. He hurried down the hallway and passed the sentry, to find Shiro wringing out his long fringe, sat on bench next to his filthy uniform. “Was it pleasant?” Ulaz set the clothes down and handed Shiro a small towel he'd been able to find, looking away from him for decency's sake. “I'm surprised you're not having a really good stare.” Shiro muttered, scratching at his furry cheek. “Every other fucking alien out here does.”  
“I'm your healer. I see your body regularly enough.”  
“So you eye me up when you're working?” There was a tiny smile on his face, and Ulaz was confused what he was suggesting, “I am professional and won't try to sleep with my patients. Please do not think I would take advantage of you.”  
“It was a joke.”  
“Oh. Right.”  
“Thank you.” Shiro didn't look at him when he said it, but Ulaz felt happy the human had managed say something positive for once. “I will leave you to drying yourself, but hurry, or the food will go cold.”  
“Warm food?” Shiro whipped his head around, eyes wide and mouth agape. Ulaz blinked, a smile gracing his lips. “Y-Yes.” He turned as Shiro jumped up and started to work his skin dry. It was a bit sad, Ulaz thought, that the human would get this excited over something so small.

 

Shiro's attempt to contain his excitement and curiosity was poor at best. He poked some of the manchin, a type of meat that was a usual staple food for most young Galra and looked to Ulaz. “That's also another type of meat. Here, these are meats, these are vegetables, and these are carbohydrates.”  
“And you're not lying when you say I can eat as much as I want?”  
“No. Just don't be sick and pace yourself.”  
“Is there a catch?” Shiro narrowed his eyes, hand ghosting the manchin wing. “Just don't complain when I reapply the gel.”  
“I'll try not to.” Shiro took the meat and without hesitating, bit it. He hummed to himself in delight. Ulaz observed him, before setting the pills down next to him, “remember these.” Shiro nodded, a large smile on his face as he tore through more manchin.

 

Ulaz picked up some bovas cuts and held it between his teeth as set to work finding some finger splint plans. He'd measured Shiro's fingers earlier, and just needed to find a size that worked. Adult Galra ones were too big, the same as adolescent by the looks of it. “You need child Galra splints.” He called. Shiro groaned in response. Selecting a pair, he sent it over to his replicator. “Where'd you put your collar?” Shiro pointed to the table he'd been sat on earlier, and Ulaz nodded. “Do I need to have it back on?” Shiro shielded his mouth as he spoke. “No. I'm just going to clean it-”  
“No. Let me do it. It's mine.”  
“It's no trouble-”  
“Really. It's mine to take care of.” Shiro swiped it from the table, clutching it tightly. Ulaz nodded, turning his attention to the replicator. “Your splints are ready and...the Commander will be here in half a varga.”  
“Great. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then?”  
“I'm going to have a word with him.” Ulaz wandered over and settled next to Shiro. “Hand.” As gently as he could, he fixed each splint on to Shiro's fingers. “Remember, I need to reapply the gel.” He muttered. Shiro nodded and wandered over to the table, still chewing the torka root. He slipped the shirt over his head and unclipped his body suit.

 

Shiro sat on the table toying with the collar, now back around his neck. Since Haxus had mentioned the Commander would be happy with him for taking care of it, he'd been oddly protective of it. It was awkward to wear when he ate, and he hated the pressure around his neck, but he'd been wearing it for so long now he felt naked without it. He exhaled, tasting the lemony-minty mouth wash that Ulaz had given him after he'd been allowed to clean his teeth. He'd not been allowed to shave his face, or have his hair cut, and the length was starting to bug him as well. He looked to the door as it slid open, and for the first time in movements, Haxus was there.

 

“Where is the Commander?”  
“Caught up in a meeting. I'm here to collect the slave. Have you cleaned him up?”  
“Yes. He was filthy. I need to talk to the Commander about his health.”  
“Well you can let me know and I'll tell him.”  
“I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but in accordance with policy I cannot do that.” Ulaz swallowed as Haxus shifted on his feet. “Are we doing this after the Commander has just replaced half the crew?”  
“Wasn't the point that people were taking shortcuts in the first place?”  
“That's true.” Haxus paused, looking over to Shiro for a moment. “Fine. I'll tell him to come down and see you when he returns to the ship.” Haxus clicked his claws and Shiro moved towards him, standing to attention and bringing his right arm across his chest. “He's learning all sorts now, isn't he?” Haxus chuckled, ruffling Shiro's hair roughly. “We do like a little obedient slave.”  
“Yes, Lieutenant, sir.” Ulaz swallowed at the cold compliance; a stark contrast to the glimmer of happiness he saw earlier.

 

-

 

“In there is the training deck.” Haxus jabbed a claw towards a open space below them. It was as large enough to fit the _Calypso_ in, Shiro thought, as he paced over to look through the large windows. He clenched his shacked hand together, watching as two Galra inside fought it out. “They're fast.” Shiro muttered, narrowing his eyes as he studied the attack patterns below him. “Galra tend to be. Did you want to go watch?”  
“I'd rather be fighting myself.” Shiro raised his shackled hands, “but I doubt you'll let me out of these, sir.”  
“That's correct.” Haxus said, steering Shiro away by the shoulder. “I'd like to see you back in the arena. I miss seeing you so bloodthirsty.” Haxus exhaled, clearly lost in thought. “Ah. I remembered why I was taking you a long way back. The information you asked for.” He turned to Shiro and clapped his other hand on his shoulder.

 

Shiro bit down on his tongue. He had to make sure he gave nothing away. “Yes, sir?”  
“Well, I can confirm both prisoners 117-9876 and 117-9874 are alive.”  
“Thank you, sir. Would you happen to know where're they're based?”  
“No.”  
“But,” Shiro stared at the floor, “I asked about their status.”  
“And I told you they were alive.” Haxus's voice was growing agitated. “Asking for their status just means if they're alive or not. I have given you that information as you requested.”  
“And usually you would receive more information then just whether they're alive or not.”  
“Maybe back on your planet, but not here.” Haxus drew in close, his breath hot against Shiro's lips. “Get out of my face.” Shiro snarled, pushing himself forward. “Make me.” Haxus snorted, smug smirk plastered on his lips. “You're an obedient little slave, what are you going to do?” He chided.

 

It was quick and hurt, but as soon as Haxus released his shoulders, Shiro kicked his foot right into Haxus's groin and shoved past the Galra. “Get back here now you filthy Terran or face my blades!” Shiro didn't look back as he sprinted down the green-lit halls. He'd got a good head start on Haxus. The distant screeching started to peter out as the blood pumped in his ears and the sound of his own breathing took over. His eyes snapped back and forth as he made snap judgements as to which direction to go in. He honestly had no idea where he was going. Ship. Find a ship. He could escape. Get to a hangar. Logically it should be on the lower decks, and the best way to do that would be to find a maintenance hatch.

 

He almost ran right into the wall, but managed to bounce off it with his shoulder. _Fuck._ He sprinted down a long hallway, nothing in sight yet. That was good. He had to keep moving.  
“Attention all crew! We have an escaped prisoner loose on the ship, last known location on Level Twelve. Search and stun. I repeat; search and stun. Target is not a threat, but hostile.” That must've been Haxus's voice over the intercom. Shiro growled. The lights changed from green to a flashing magenta; a loud alarm blaring throughout the ship. He needed somewhere to hide - fast.

 

He almost ran right past the panel. He turned back and went to grab the sides. _How did I fucking forget._ They were still bound at the front. He snapped his teeth and gripped one side of the hatch, rattling and yanking at the metal with all his strength until he could ease it off. He awkwardly clambered in. It was hard to keep a grip on anything like this, but he managed to carefully but quickly descend the ladder.

 

-

 

“ _How_ did he escape?” Ulaz shouted into his communicator as he ran through the corridors. “He headbutted me and kicked me in the fucking dick, Ulaz!”  
“Their skulls aren't even armoured. Are you really that pathetic?”  
“S-Shut up! Hurry up and tranquillise that barbaric little dreck!”  
“Well if you could actually locate him, maybe that would help? Can't you track his collar?”  
“No, it's too old for that.”  
“How old is that fucking thing? Over ten thousand deca-phoebs?”  
“I don't keep track of the Commander and his antique slave crap. Just hurry up and find him.”  
“What are you even doing?”  
“Bringing up all the drone and camera feeds. They're stupid, Terrans, he's probably hiding in an alcove or cupboard.”  
“He's going to be in the hallways – he can't get into any of the rooms.” Ulaz rounded a corner and stopped dead. “He can however, get into the maintenance shafts.”  
“His hands were bound!”  
“Then explain why I'm staring at the metal cover on the floor.” Ulaz padded over slowly to check the shaft. “He's not gone up.”  
“Then go down, genius.”  
“What's down this shaft? It's Level Twelve: MS-67.” Ulaz peered down as he waited.

 

“It goes to the main hangar.” Haxus paused. “The little dreck is going to escape.”  
“He won't be able to work anything, remember?”  
“That's a good point.” Haxus was silent again. “I'll get the guards down there, and have sentries manned at each exit. We need to find him soon, the Commander just messaged me.” Ulaz felt his gut tighten. “We better. I'll go down the shaft.” Ulaz cut the communicator and shoved it in his pocket. He grabbed the bars and swung himself in. It had been a long time since he'd had to do anything like this. He let go.

 

-

 

For the first time in a long while, Shiro felt alive. The adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stalked one of the Galra guards. This guard was smaller then the others he'd seen before, and at a guess, they were young. He'd likely have the upper hand. He was playing about with his communicator, giggling like a school boy. Shiro stalked closer, moving on tiptoe. No sound, no noise.

 

“Uwaah!!!” With a hard thud and clatter, the guard hit the floor face-first. Shiro pounced. He kicked and stamped on the back of his legs, spine, he kicked as hard as he could against the guards ribs, spitting and snarling. The guard looked terrified, but Shiro refused to relent. _Get your cuffs off._ “Take these off now!” Shiro barked. The Galra whimpered, but brought out one hand and squeezed the metal. They clicked open, just like the collar earlier.

 

Flexing his right hand, he bent down and grabbed the guard's face. “Hangar. Where is it?”  
“Next floor down!”  
“I'm taking this.” Shiro grabbed the blaster a few feet away. He aimed it at the Galra in front of him. “Nothing personal.” He pulled the trigger. The laser blast struck the guard in the face, but whether he was dead, it didn't matter at this point for Shiro. He needed to get moving. He sprinted down the hallway, cursing at the burning stitch in his side. It hurt, but it still felt better than being force-fed alien come.

 

He skidding to a stop as a small drone appeared before him. “S-Shit!” Shiro raised the blaster and fired, the machine falling to the floor, small sparks erupting from it before the light dimmed from its robotic eye.  
“He's on Level Two! All personnel, get there now!” The intercom. Fuck. He slipped down a side corridor that ended in a dead end, but did end in another maintenance panel. He yanked it off as he heard distant metal boots and the whirring of something he didn't recognise. There, he was in. He couldn't hold the blaster and put the panel back on, so had to hope that he could get enough of a head start. The hangars were close. Freedom was nearly upon him. He had to stay focussed – Sendak was his biggest threat.

 

He slipped carefully out of the shaft, holding the blaster close. He felt like he was being watched, but of course he would, he was almost at his destination. He sunk slow and strained his ears as he crept around, trying to not let his twitchy fingers fire too early. It seemed too quiet. Something wasn't right. He finally found himself looking through large windows to a hangar lined with hundreds of fighter jets. He shouldn't be surprised, but the sheer volume was terrifying. Earth would be annihilated.

 

“What are you doing?”  
Shiro yelped, firing off a shot into the hallway. “You've got it set to stun, but you almost had me.”  
“U-Ulaz? Is that you?!” Shiro pointed his gun around, trying to locate where he was hiding. “I thought you were a medical officer?”  
“I am, Shiro, but I am trained in combat. Would you mind placing the blaster down, I don't like hurting my patients.”  
“I-I know you want me to put it down, but I can't. I know it's a ruse.”  
“Well you can't say I tried.” Above. Shiro looked above him but there was nothing there. Something caught him under his left arm and he groaned out, but left a shot off into the floor. “Careful.” Ulaz was right in his face, the tiniest of grins on his face, but eyes glowing dangerously.

 

“Where did you-” Shiro was grabbed around his arms and lifted clean into the air. He dropped the blaster with a clatter to the floor. Ulaz wasn't squeezing him hard, but Shiro felt that this was relaxed for him. “Put...me... _down_!” He kicked out, and somehow managed to kick Ulaz in the gut. He dropped Shiro, who grabbed the blaster and ran towards a set of doors. He hammered the panel and it buzzed, red light denying him access. He could feel his heart rate increase and sweat drip down his neck as Ulaz turned towards him. Shouts were growing louder until he was surrounded on all sides, the guard he'd shot in the face was there supported by an angry-looking comrade. Then of course, Haxus had to appear.

 

Shiro couldn't back himself more into the door. What he didn't bank on was it opening. He fell backwards, having relied on it for support. The faces in front of him dropped and he knew in that moment that the hard mountain he'd hit was Sendak.  
“What the hell is going on here?” A hand wound its way under his jaw. The claws pressed in sharply as the broke the skin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I toyed with having Zarkon come to the ship, but I don't want anything happening with him for a while to be honest. You may get some Zarkon/Shiro muuuuuuch later, but I'm not sure yet (I do like a bit of Zarkon/Shiro, not gonna lie).
> 
> But oh no, he's been caught! Even I'm not sure right now what's going on - only a few lines into the next chapter.


	9. Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos last chapter! It was great hearing from you all!
> 
> Arguably a massive lose-lose chapter for almost everyone, I'll let you crack on reading.

“C-Commander! I-”  
“That little dreck shot Yarva _in the fucking face!”_ The guard carrying his comrade placed him carefully against the wall before drawing his sword and rushing at Shiro. “I'm going to gut you!” His eyes shone dangerously in the pulsating light as he bared down. Shiro scrabbled in Sendak's iron grip, screwing his eyes shut.

 

“C-Commander?” The voice was meek.  
Shiro cracked open his eye. The point of the sword poked out of the huge black hand. He couldn't see Sendak's face, but he could feel how taut the body was under his suit. Sendak never said a word. He shoved Shiro away, Haxus grabbing him tightly and yanking his hair back so he could glare into his eyes, a toothy sneer on his face. “Just you wait.” He whispered. “Follow. All of you.” Sendak said flatly as he pulled the guard by the front of their armour down the corridor. There was a single room with a window in front of them, but with how nervous the others started getting, Shiro's gut started to knot.

 

Sendak pushed the guard against the door and yanked the blaster from Shiro's hand. “You tried to kill my property.”  
“Your _what_?”  
“For your undisciplined actions against your Commander and his property, I hereby condemn you to death.” Sendak placed the blaster against his chest and without hesitation pulled the trigger. The guard screeched as he went down, writhing and twitching as Sendak opened the first door and kicked him inside. He closed it and pressed a few buttons on the panel. _Air lock disengaging in thirty ticks._ Sendak crushed the blaster in his prosthetic claws and threw it to the ground. He turned, and Haxus pushed Shiro back towards him. “Watch.” He pressed Shiro's face against the cold glass.

 

As the automated voice counted down, the horrified look on the guard's face turned to fear and panic to realisation and desperation. Shiro could see everything; he couldn't move, he'd die out there. “Commander, please-” Sendak smashed his face into the window. “Silence!” He snarled, digging his claws in tight. “His blood is on your hands.” The whisper made Shiro's spine go cold.

 

He couldn't hear the guard as they tried to drag themselves to the door, and never would as the air lock opened. He'd never seen anyone die from the vacuum, and honestly never wanted to again. As the lock opened, the body just flew out unceremoniously. “The Galra body takes thirty ticks until the oxygen is gone.” Sendak whispered into Shiro's ear. “I wonder how long it would take it to leave yours?” He kept his eyes on the body floating just outside the ship; answering would have him out the airlock as well.

 

Slowly, Sendak turned to the remaining members of his organic crew, the alarm still blaring around them and lights flashing. “If any one of you ever _considers_ trying to kill my slave.” He threw Shiro to the floor, “or touches him without my consent again, you will be going out that airlock. I didn't invite undisciplined drecks to my crew, I invited strong and capable Galra. Take stock of its collar. It. Is. Mine.” Shiro could feel multiple sets of eyes on his curled up form. He'd landed on his broken fingers and could feel them sting for the first time in hours. He bit his lip as he felt a tight grip around his ankle. “Lieutenant – my office in fifteen dobosh's. Get that alarm off _now._ ” He stormed off down the hallway, dragging Shiro's body behind him.

 

-

 

“How on _Diabazaal_ did he manage to get away from you?” Sendak roared, striking his fist on the desk. Haxus flinched. There was no question he deserved this. “He headbutted me and kicked me in the groin.”  
“Are you joking?” Sendak stared at him, mouth agape. He brought his hand up to his temples, then to his mouth. “I'm...speechless.” He flopped it down on the desk, shrugging his shoulders. “Explain everything that led up to this.”  
“I collected him from Ulaz's office two vargas ago, at the allotted time you were supposed to. After talking with Ulaz, I then took the slave for a long walk back to his cell-”  
“Why?”  
“I wished to show him more of the ship, as you have taken him out previously.” Haxus shifted in his chair. “What aren't you telling me?” Sendak's brow knit together as he leaned forward. “I...had information for him,” he closed his eyes and slowly reopened them, “about his previous cell mates.”

 

Sendak leaned back and brought his prosthetic arm to the table, the claws drumming on the spotless surface. “What information?”  
“Their status.”  
“You are aware you should not be divulging this information?” Sendak's fur started to puff out, his claws silent. “P-Please understand, Commander, it was to serve you!” He slammed his palms against the spotless surface, the chair clattering over behind him. “It was movements ago; when you'd asked me to prepare him. I said I'd exchange the information for his compliance!” His heart hammered against his chest as Sendak stared at him. He bent his head down. “Commander-”  
“Silence, Lieutenant.” Sendak didn't look at him. “Not only have you given information away in exchange for sexual favours, but you have disrespected me in the process. A member of the crew is dead because of your negligence.” Sendak rose from his chair. “I will need to submit a report to the Emperor, and he will make the call on your punishment. You've got a clean record, so I'm sure it'll be something small like reassignment for a few phoebs. For the time being, I'm suspending all your duties and will take back overseeing the prisoners. You will be assigned to your quarters, and your permissions will be severely reduced.” Sendak crossed his arms over his chest, face expressionless.

 

Haxus bowed his head and rose. “I understand, Commander.” He pulled his communicator from his pocket and placed it on the table, along with the small lanyard clipped to his waist. Sendak nodded stiffly, placing them in a drawer. “Can I assume that he lashed out because he was not happy with the answer?”  
“Correct, Sir.” Haxus stood at attention, arm across his chest. “That is all. Go.” Sendak turned his back on Haxus, and he heard the door swish open and close.

 

He rested his head against the wall. He hated this; how stupid and reckless Haxus had been. He was risking his career and now this was a mark against him, even if it would likely be a light punishment. He'd done everything he should of, which was fine with Sendak, but it shouldn't of happened. The slave, arguably just opportunistic, had managed to evade capture from sentries and regular guards alike; he'd managed to wind his medical officer for enough time to get from his iron-grip, and stolen a blaster from some grunt. He'd wished he'd been here to deal with it himself. Sighing, he made for the door. He needed to grab a few things before heading down to see his slave.

 

-

 

Shiro tugged again half-heartedly at his restraints; his arms and legs stretched wide and shackled in heavy cuffs, the rattle of the chains echoed around the room. Sendak had dragged him in and strung him up. He'd tried to fight back but was back-handed over both of his cheeks. They still stung. He wasn't sure what Sendak was going to do, but he'd removed the collar once he was tied, and it was a rarity that Sendak would ever take it off unless he was making Shiro clean it.

 

The automatic doors behind him hissed open and he heard heavy footsteps echo against the metal floor. They stopped, maybe a few feet back. “So what happens now?” Shiro asked, glaring hard into the dim room as he tried to steel himself. There was no answer, just footsteps and the sound of something clattering. “Not talkative for once? Nothing smug to say? No chiding that you're superior?” Why he was goading Sendak he had no idea at this point. It was probably the adrenaline and rage – or he hoped so.

 

With no warning, white-hot agony tore through his flesh. Shiro threw his head back, screaming. He could already feel at least four warm lines across his back. He wasn't prepared for the second lashing, or the third, or the fourth. Each time he screamed himself hoarse, tears and dark spots clouding his vision. He choked on his own breath, and the lashing stopped. The reprieve was short-lived as his clothes were ripped from his back. He felt sharp claws as they kneaded his ass cheeks, and squeaked as a rough tongue ran up his spine. Sharp teeth pierced the skin just below the base of his neck, the tongue hungrily licking at the blood. Shiro let his head drop forward, panting and trying to resist screeching out.

 

His throat released a ragged shout as he felt claws slash over the lacerations. He snarled, lips curling back, and looked up to see Sendak slowly wander round, letting the tailed whip drag over the floor beneath him. Shiro couldn't stop his body from trembling; the sweat soaked his skin. He could feel the pain well in his chest as he saw the whip fully now, the four dark thongs stained red with his blood. He tried to say Sendak's name, but nothing but a rasp came from his dry cracked lips. Sendak raised his arm high, a look of pure euphoria on his face.

 

 _Crack_.  
 _Crack._  
Crack.  
Crack.

 

His rasps slowly became inaudible until Shiro slumped forwards, head hung almost against his collarbone. He could hear the distant clatter of the whip hitting the floor and muffled footsteps. A hand roughly grabbed his face, a finger stroking his stubble slowly. He slipped out of consciousness with a soft breath.

 

Sendak studied the tear-stricken face; blood splattered across his cheeks and nose. His slave had longer hair now, which he had started to prefer. Sendak tilted his face to the side, pressing his fingers to the bruised cheek. He drew his hand back and slapped it across both sides of his face. The slave's eyes bolted open. “Please...” He croaked, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. He dropped his hand and turned back towards the whip. His ears pricked as the chains rattled hopelessly against the fittings. He picked up the whip and moved back towards the table where his other equipment lay, exchanging it for a slender metal bar.

 

His body was descending. Was it? He felt his toes brush against the floor and the clicking of metal stop. The floor was warm and slippery. He dared to glance down to stare at small puddles of his own blood. His feet prickled as he wiggled his toes; muscles tingling as he could shift his weight about for the first time in almost a varga. He felt his ankle grabbed and the clatter of chains, before it was forcibly moved and attached to something else. The same happened with his other leg, and he was left with his feet planted on the floor and legs spread – not as wide as before, but still far enough apart. Next his arms were brought in behind his back, and he could hear something click together. Shiro tried to pull his arms apart, but found them joined together at the wrists. The left above the right.

 

Sendak, happy with his slave spread as he was, paced around in front of him, his head hung low. It was possible he may pass out again, but another slap would likely do the trick. He pulled his slave by the hair forwards, bending down to look into those grey eyes he was a little fond of. There was the embers of fight in there. As he unclipped the front of his body suit, he let his prosthetic claws run slowly over the bloody chest, digging back into the gouges he made movements' ago. The slave rasped again, trying to pull away from the pain. Sendak focussed on his claws, which came to life. He seared slowly along the lash marks, the slave's primal scream echoing around the room. The smell of burning flesh was not pleasant to his sensitive nose, but watching him flit in-between consciousness was worth the stench. He pulled his claws away, letting them relax, as he pulled the slave down to his semi-hard erection.

 

Shiro spluttered around the hot dick in his mouth as Sendak pulled him roughly along its length. He tried to scream through it to no avail as it swelled in size. He heard soft grunts above him as the underside of Sendak's cock rubbed itself against his tongue, the pace and force increasing with each thrust. The ridges caught under his teeth, and it felt like they'd be ripped out along with his throat. He screwed his eyes shut as the thrusts became erratic, trying to will his own erection away; he was losing blood, he didn't need any more of it going somewhere like that. The grip on his hair tightened, and he felt Sendak's cock twitch in his mouth before he emptied himself. Shiro swallowed what he could as Sendak pulled himself out; threads of come catching his lips and face. The grip on his hair released, and he dropped his head, spit and come dripping from his open mouth. His body shuddered as he coughed what he couldn't swallow to the floor, before his stomach decided, it, to, needed to empty its' contents.

 

Sendak was unrelenting in his silent assault on Shiro's body. He felt those sharp claws squeeze his cock, giving him a few tugs, before he ran the flat of his finger around past Shiro's taint to his hole. His voice cracked as Sendak slapped his ass sore while one of the cold metal claws probed his hole before pulling away. He felt the hard tip of Sendak's erection force itself in; the pain intense internally as it almost felt like his cock was forcing itself through his gut. He heard the loud purr above him, the prosthetic holding him around the chest with the biological hand held his hip in place. There was too much in there like this, Shiro couldn't cope.

 

When the body under him went limp, Sendak found it was easier to fuck further into him. No resistance was good, but then he couldn't let his slave off the hook. He bit down into his shoulder, digging his teeth in hard. The body jerked underneath him, Sendak purring to the feeling. As he lapped at the bloody marks he'd made, he pulled the slave in closer and forced himself with more fervour – the small mewls and whines pressing him forward for a second release. He bent his knees a little more and forced him down hard as he thrust upwards; the slave's shriek carnal. He moved his hand across the damp and bloody chest before wrapping it around Shiro's cock, pumping it roughly as he could feel himself reach climax again.

 

Shiro flicked between consciousness as Sendak came hard in his ass, his own erection painful in the tight grasp as he neared his own release. His eyelids fluttered and he let out a small squeak as he came, pain and shame shooting throughout his entire body as he slumped forwards in the restraints. He was vaguely aware of Sendak pulling out, of the hotness that ran down the insides of his thighs. Then nothing.

 

Sendak loosened the chains and the slave dropped to the floor with a thud, his ass raised and come and blood leaking out. He moved back to the table, taking his communicator and quickly typing a message out, before placing it back down. He took the collar and a small knife, before returning to the body. He attached the collar back on, lifting the slave's filthy face. He was out, at least for now. He let it fall back to the floor and moved to crouch behind him, taking a foot in his hand. He made quick small cuts over each foot; his slave waking to make a strangled noise and tried to lash out, but to no avail, before flopping his face into the puddle of vomit he'd made earlier. Something on his hand glinted, and for the first time, he noticed the small finger splints. Sendak raised the hand and studied it in his prosthetic, before clamping it around the wrist. With a crunch and another shriek, he let it drop, the metal cuff crushed into the bloody skin.

 

The door behind him opened, and he looked around to see four guards stood on the threshold. He rose and motioned for them to approach.  
“As I said, you have free reign to use his body for pleasure for the next varga. Nothing more. There is a camera in the room, so you are being recorded. Understand?”  
“Yes, Commander!” They placed their hands against their chest and Sendak dismissed them to their entertainment. His ears pricked at the hoots and jeers as he collected his things from the table. He turned to see they'd rolled his slave to his back, ripping the remaining fabric from his chest until all that was left was that around his legs and arms. Sendak sniffed as he turned for the door, pulling out his communicator again.  
 _Come to Interrogation Room L13-C one varga from now. You have him for the next movement._

 

-

 

Ulaz's stomach tightened as saw four guards on Level Thirteen. They were jeering and making grotesque sexual comments. They quietened down as they passed him in the corridor, but he could feel the stares on his back. He stopped in front of Room C and took a deep breath before placing his hand against the panel. The door opened to the dimly lit room and his nose was hit with the stench of blood and vomit. He coughed, covering his face and glared through the dim light.

 

There.  
The floor.

 

He wasn't sure why he ran. He skidded down onto his knees and scooped Shiro delicately into his arms. He placed his fingers above the collar to check for a pulse. It was there, but slow. Ulaz snarled out as he took stock of the marks, the blood. He shook his head at the burn marks, the lacerations and bite marks. He was smeared in blood, come, vomit and the who knew what else, but it wasn't pleasant. Ulaz made sure to carefully lift Shiro before striding from the room. His gaze was dark, and he wasn't sure he was equipped to deal with the injuries he was yet to find.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Sendak silent for the entire scene because honestly it's creepy as fuck, and I think that's more terrifying then him being angry and violent. Both have their pros and cons, but also I don't want to rely on a totally physically aggressive Sendak. 
> 
> Haxus remains to be a jammy shitbag, much like anyone in a position of power ;) gotta love those double standards about personal responsibility and punishing the elite, eh?
> 
> I had to google how long people could survive without a body suit/how many lashes it would take to kill a man, and ended up learning some new things, both of which are totally miserable, admittedly.
> 
> But no. Will Ulaz have the equipment to deal with Shiro? Who knows at this point. The only other place he can go to is Central, after all.


	10. Aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than I thought, and I've been tired while writing this lately. This is a Good and Wholesome (probably) chapter. There's a bit of light medical gore but honestly not a lot. I think after the last one, it's a nice little come down. Since Sendak doesn't do aftercare, someone has to.
> 
> I know a few of you read Accidental Emperor, and I want to give you an update out of politeness more than anything; Kimmimaru is reaaaally not well presently, and we've not forgotten about it. I've offered to cover chapter 3, but she's insistent she will write it once she's better. I'm planning to visit her on Sunday because I'm worried. I know you guys will get it, but again it's just a note.
> 
> Thank you all again for your comments and kudos - I'm really amazed it's over 1200 hits! Thank you all so much, honestly!!

Ulaz stirred from his sleep, eyes opening slowly as he stretched. He moaned, blinking towards the tank in front of him. _Shiro_. He steadied himself up from the terminal and padded softly towards the tank, pressing a hand against the glass. His face looked pained even when he was under. The night before had been utter hell; he'd had to leave for Central Command because the ship wasn't equipped to handle the work he needed to do to the human. Removing the cuff that had been crushed into his skin had been a nightmare, and he'd had to approach the Druids for insight about quintessence usage because there was no way Shiro would've survived the night after he fell into shock and almost flat-lined. The Druids themselves were eerie, and he never liked being around them for any period of time. The only thing that was lucky was that they did help, since in that all-knowing way about them, they knew of Shiro's circumstances as Sendak's property and the Emperor's gift.

 

Either way, Shiro was stabilised. Ulaz ran an internal scan and went to grab something to drink. So much as alcohol would be great, this wasn't the time. As he stepped into the silent hallways of the medical centre, his communicator vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out as he walked to the staff canteen, scanning the message from Thace;  
_When you say fucked up, how fucked up?_  
Ulaz rubbed his brow as he typed back;  
_Hand crushed, lacerations everywhere – even the feet – rectum torn in so many places I am surprised they didn't give him a new asshole, bruised all over...you do not want to know what fluids I found on him. My initial scan shown possible blindness in one of his eyes but I think that won't be permanent._  
Ulaz pushed his communicator into his pocket as he selected a drink. A cup rattled out of the machine before the mixture poured itself in. He watched the dark liquid stop and then the next one pour.

 

 _That's really fucked up. Shit I'm sorry you have to deal with this._  
Ulaz scanned the message and sniffed. _If I could I'd gut Sendak with his own prosthetic. Can't you just hack it?_  
He lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip.  
_Do I look like the witch?_  
Ulaz grinned at the message before stalking back towards the room. His scan should be done by now.

 

He set the cup down and brought up the results. The bites and scratches were the first things that had healed; the antiseptic in the quintessence an absolute blessing His internal damage, lacerations and cuts were slowly healing, but needed more time. Ulaz took another sip of his drink as he narrowed his eyes. The wrist should've started to heal by now along with the fingers. That was odd. He pulled up the settings and parameters for the tank, making sure the output was right for the condition Shiro was in. _Correct, could go up a bit, correct...what the fuck._ He pushed himself away from the terminal. He needed a second opinion.

 

-

 

“H-High Priestess? What do I owe this honour?” Ulaz bowed low, arm clenched against his chest as the hooded figure stalked into the room, two Druids flanking her. “My Druids have told me the quintessence is not healing it.”  
“T-That is correct.”  
“Stand.” Ulaz quickly stood to attention. She raised her hand as she swept across the room towards the tank, and as Ulaz relaxed, he watched her study Shiro through the glass. “What happened to it?”  
He opened his mouth to answer but closed it again. “It was...punished for trying to escape.”  
“How.”  
“It was lashed and raped repeatedly.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“Medical Officer Ulaz.” _How did she know his name?_ “Everything here is correct, medically speaking. However, it would do you well to harden your disposition towards these matters.” She didn't look at him as she spoke, but tapped the glass with her clawed hands. “Bring him out. There is something anomalous here.”

 

Ulaz jumped into action. He set the tank to drain, looking nervously at the Druids and High Priestess, who were talking amongst themselves, every so often. As the tank made a soft beep, he moved forward to pull him out. “No. Leave him in there.”  
“Yes, High Priestess.” Ulaz backed away as she approached the body, lifting the mangled wrist and studying it herself. She motioned for one of the Druids to come over and pointed to the skin. The druid bent over, taking the wrist itself before pulling back. “It is fragments.”  
“Fragments of...what?” He asked warily.  
“Restraints were used, yes?”  
“I...yes.”  
“The metal used is ancient – it dates back nine thousand deca-phoebs.” Haggar plucked a fragment out, handing it to Ulaz. “The restraint was likely ones that absorbed quintessence.” She paused, brow creasing. “Run the compounds of the shard and isolate them, then scan the body. We need to remove it as quickly as possible.” Ulaz hurried to the terminal and turned it on, quickly checking around him for a scanner. “I will speak to the Commander myself.” She muttered. “I will leave one of my Druids here. They will summon me back once you have the results.” She cast her cold gaze at Ulaz, who nodded curtly.

 

-

 

“Commander Sendak, explain to me why you have quintessence absorbing restraints.” Haggar slowly circled Sendak, who was bowed on one knee in the throne room. Zarkon sat quietly on his throne, arms resting on the sides and slowly drumming his fingertips together as he observed Sendak. He'd had the report come through late last night, and was once again disappointed in his old charge for letting his closeness with certain members of his crew cloud his judgement.

 

“All materials that related to quintessence absorption was to be given to the Druids for the Komar experiment. Why did you feel you were exempt, Commander?” She continued, stopping in front of Sendak.  
“I allowed it, Haggar.” Zarkon rumbled. She turned to him, brow creased and mouth agape. “Why, My Lord?”  
“Because I was the one to give them to him.” Zarkon rested his hands on the side of his throne. “He asked to keep them as a reminder of his old tutelage. I agreed.” He looked down at Sendak, who bowed his head low to the floor. Haggar averted her gaze before returning to her usual position besides the throne.

 

“This conversation is a waste of time. The only one of import is regarding your failure to post someone suitable to oversee your role.” He rose from the throne and slowly descended the steps until he stood over Sendak. “I will overlook the death of your crew member who disrespected your property and was rightly sent from the airlock. The guard who was defeated by the slave is a waste of resources, and will be reassigned to a position far from Central Command. Lieutenant Haxus, however, has a pure record and impressive skills that the Empire requires. You were right to suspend his duty, and from your report I believe all that could have been done, was.” Zarkon paused. “Regardless of this, I will personally be overseeing his punishment.”  
“A fair and just punishment should teach him what he needs to learn.”  
“You will also fight him. It will be a closed match.” Zarkon placed his hand in Sendak's fur. “Rise, Commander.”

 

Sendak rose to look into the eerie eyes of his Emperor. “I _accept_ you prefer to form a cohesive unit through trust, but you must never forget that we may have enemies on the inside – the treasonous Blade of Marmora. They have agents planted, I am sure, in all ranks of the Empire. We may flush them out, but I cannot be sure they are all gone until their leader, Kolivan, is dead by my hand. If Lieutenant Haxus was a spy or betrayed the Empire, I expect you to have no hesitation ending his life.”  
“You speak the truth, Emperor.” Sendak lowered his gaze. “I can see through you, Sendak. He has disrespected you, so I give you this closed match as a duel of honour.”  
“Thank you, Emperor.” Sendak bowed low.

 

“Part of your punishment is showing me what you have taught your slave. I would like to see him fight.”  
“Who would you like him to fight?”  
“You. I miss his bloodthirsty attitude. Nadiva is too smug, and we both know that his victory wasn't legitimate.” Zarkon sneered. He turned back towards his throne. “Additionally, consider yourself grounded to the confines of Central Command until further notice. I expect you to be on the station by the end of the movement.”

 

-

 

His body was strapped to a table. Ulaz and a strange alien with a mask like a plague doctor leaned over his left arm with a small pair of tweezer-like instruments, picking something out of his mangled wrist. Ulaz had told him they'd anaesthetised the area instead of putting him under, and it was normal for the Galra to do this. He couldn't feel much past his elbow regardless, but his stomach felt churned up. He felt cold and clammy; almost ready to just pass out at any moment. Ulaz said it was fine if he did – it would probably be less grizzly. Apparently they were going to pull the skin back to get the small bits out. It's when they would use tiny instruments to collect the metal. If it got into his bloodstream and to his heart, he'd die.

 

He still wondered if that would be better then the life he had presently. Matt and Sam were probably having similar things done to them, but Shiro knew they were strong. They'd be okay, until he could get them both out. If he joined Nadiva, that would move closer to a feasible reality. Right now he couldn't pass through a door without needing a Galran escort. Maybe being dead wouldn't be too useful right now. He rolled his head to the left, and as Ulaz moved his hand away, he noticed the flesh peeled back, muscle and a bit of bone exposed. There was a lot of blood. He felt a bit light-headed and closed his eyes.

 

-

 

“So...how did it go?” Haxus lounged with his legs up on the sofa, watching Sendak as he perched on the edge by his feet. “That grimace doesn't look promising. Am I fucked?”  
“Technically no, but literally? Yes.”  
“Did he say if I'm being moved off the ship?”  
“He didn't. I don't think you will be. Yarva is getting moved out to the fringes – like Branko did. He's going to be personally punishing you, and he's making us fight.” Sendak glanced over. Haxus blinked, sitting up slowly.

 

“I see why you said literally now.”  
“Yeah.” Sendak looked down at his prosthetic claws. “It's not a death match.”  
“Oh thank the gods.” Haxus flopped back into the sofa, groaning in frustration. “It's going to hurt, the punishment?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Any advice?”  
“Take it.”  
“Thanks.” Haxus pulled himself up, resting a clawed hand on Sendak's thigh and giving it a tiny squeeze. “Would you like a drink?”  
“That'd be great. I've had the High Priestess at my throat today.”  
“Yeah, you can't let her get angry at you. Otherwise she'll probably replace your other arm.”  
“Her work is exceptional – it feels just like my organic arm.” Sendak frowned, before following Haxus over to his tiny kitchenette. “I'll be moving into my old place in Central by the end of the movement. When you can, come over.”  
“I haven't been there in deca-phoebs.” Haxus chuckled as he took two glasses and a large bottle of mahogany-coloured liquid from the cupboard.

 

-

 

“High Priestess, no trace of the metal remains in its body.” The Druid passed Haggar a small container with the fragments. She peered inside and nodded slowly. “It's also reacting well to being back in the tank. Is it still safe to keep it on this much quintessence?” Ulaz glanced warily over from the terminal. Haggar and the Druid turned to him, silent for a few moments. “Yes. To heal him faster, I can refine it further.” Haggar stepped to the tank and placed her hands against the glass. Ulaz watched as her body relaxed; a strange, dark purple light emanating from her, until she screamed to expel the energy. As if the glass was nothing, it passed through into the tank; the once off-green colour now a bright violet. She let her hands drop away. “It shouldn't be long now until it is fit to leave the tank. Your assistance today has been of value, Ulaz.” Haggar gave him a detached once-over, before motioning the druid to follow her as she clutched the container.

 

-

 

Ulaz appreciated Thace coming to see him; he'd brought him a pipe and an energy drink to keep him going. The two sat in silence, staring at the tank and Thace occasionally squeezed Ulaz's hand, fingers laced together. “He'll be alright, Ulaz.”  
“Still concerned.” Ulaz rested his head on Thace's shoulder. “I've been up for thirty vargas or something. Had a tiny nap,” Ulaz yawned, “but for how long I don't know.”  
“Not long enough, clearly.”  
“I'm taking care of him for the movement.”  
“Do you think it's going to take that long for him to heal?”  
“The body may be healed,” Ulaz took a drag on his pipe, “but it's everything else. I'm still worried about the quintessence exposure.” He motioned the the violet tank as he exhaled the smoke. “I suppose,” he continued, “it's interesting to see what the effects could end up being, but I hope it just increases his strength.”  
“What if he becomes too strong? You know the Empire will use him.” Thace rested his chin in Ulaz's soft mohawk. “Then at best it levels the playing field. He can defend himself.”

 

-

 

“Take this and squeeze it.” Ulaz handed Shiro a soft grey ball. He took it in his left hand and clenched around the foam object a few times. Carefully at first, before smiling to himself as he made confident squeezes. “Well that seems fine. Rotate your wrist for me?” Shiro done as instructed, a tiny smile on his lips. “It's like it was never crushed, and you couldn't tell either.” He laced his fingers together and stretched them out, the bones making small cracks.

 

“Sadly, not everything has healed correctly.” Ulaz motioned Shiro to follow him a small side room with wall-length mirrors, a bed, and a small counter. He loosened the soft robes he'd been give to wear over his shoulders, pulling it down so they sat around his hips. It was the first time in a while he'd actually seen his reflection. Pacing slowly towards it, he placed a hand to his face. His stubble had grown out into a beard and his fringe was down past his nose. His skin was really pale which only made the dark bags around his sunken eyes more prominent. He bit his lip as he let his eyes drop down. He trailed his fingers along the three burn marks over his pecs to the side that Nadiva scarred the nipple on. Sendak's claw marks were still there as well in the centre. “Your back is thankfully clear. Aside all the bruising, of course.” Ulaz held his hands behind his back as Shiro pulled his mouth open to check his teeth, frowning as he poked his canine. It didn't wobble, that was good. He didn't want to lose anything out here. “How's your eyesight?”  
“Fine, why?”  
“There was the possibility you may have woken up blind in one eye.”  
“But Sendak didn't smash my face into the floor.”  
“Not from Sendak.” Ulaz wandered over and gently patted Shiro's shoulder.

 

“So...where are we?” Shiro finally asked, rubbing the back of his head.  
“We're on Central Command. I couldn't heal you back on the ship. You almost died.” Ulaz squeezed Shiro's shoulder lightly. “We couldn't have that.” He smiled. Shiro looked at him, blinking slowly. “Why?”  
“Because I would be a failure at my job if I let you die.” Ulaz cocked his head to the side. “Ah. It just sounded like you're keeping me alive for other reasons.” Shiro pulled away, wandering uneasily on his feet around the room. He felt lost; not really here. “Did you say someone other than Sendak attacked me?”  
“You were assaulted by others. A minimum of four.” Ulaz studied Shiro as he stopped in place.

 

“Four.” He turned his head slowly to Ulaz, head tilted back, eyes wide, and mouth partly open. The look made Ulaz tense. Shiro rolled his eyes to look at the ceiling, a stifled, cold laugh echoing around the room. With speed Ulas didn't think he had, Shiro charged, drawing his fist back. Ulaz side-stepped, but realised he wasn't the intended target as the fist shattered the mirror. Shiro stood there laughing to himself, letting his forehead rest against the broken glass. The shards drawing blood from his knuckles.

 

-

 

“More manchin?”  
“Thank you, Ulaz.” Shiro offered a smile as he stabbed his fork into the meat, the bandages around his hand looking like they needed a change. Ulaz's gaze softened as the human ate. The events from yesterday seemed to have been forgotten, at least by Shiro. Ulaz had noted it down in his observations, and was adamant it was linked to the quintessence exposure. He'd had to subdue him after he smashed the mirror up more, and he could only presume the look of death and revulsion Shiro had given him was what his victims saw in the arena. It was a look that didn't suit him.

 

It was his fourth quintant with Shiro, who had spent most of his time in the tank healing. This was the first proper meal he'd had since the quintant he tried to escape. “Did you want to stretch your legs today?”  
“In what way?”  
“I have a few things to do, and some help would be good.”  
“Am I allowed out?”  
“Well since I'm taking care of you, yeah.” Ulaz stole a tiny piece of manchin from Shiro's plate, the human grumbling in annoyance. “I would really like to, honestly.”  
“I'd have to cuff you, sadly.”  
“So long as it's in front of my body, that would be easier.” Shiro tugged at his robes, shivering at the cold. “Come, I had a body suit for you. You can wear the robes on top.”  
“Do you have anything like a sash? A piece of fabric to go around the waist?” Shiro covered his mouth as he spoke, swallowing. Ulaz paused. “No, why?”  
“Oh, I was going to try and style it like something from home.”  
“I can find you some fabric if you like.” Ulaz shepherded Shiro into the side room and motioned to the under suit.

 

-

 

There were stares and whispers as the two walked through Central's bustling market. The place smelt of so many different foods; he recognised bovas and manchin, other meaty-smelling things frying, something like cinnamon, and other sweet smells that made his mouth water and stomach rumble. They passed under neon signs - some floating in the air above, others welded to shop fronts.

 

Ulaz had linked his arm with Shiro's as he fought through the masses. Although Shiro kept close and to himself, he had a habit of tugging Ulaz towards random shops. After what felt like three vargas, Ulaz finally found the fabric shop, and let Shiro hunt for whatever it was he wanted.  
“Hey Ul-sir, would you be able to purchase this one?” Shiro bit his tongue. Ulaz had told him before they left he had to act subservient while they were out, as it was possible they would get into trouble – him more so – for acting familiar. He bowed his head to Ulaz, who nodded stiffly, stepping forwards to inspect the fabric himself. He glanced up to the shop keeper, who was eyeing Shiro warily. “How much?”  
“Three thousand GAC.” The shop keeper was a squat alien with buggy eyes and a nasally voice. Ulaz shrugged his shoulders and brought out his communicator.  
“You want to smack that slave for being so rude!”  
“Well it's something his master will have to do in private.” Ulaz pushed his communicator back into his pocket, glaring down at the alien. “You should know to keep your opinions to yourself, dreck.” He passed Shiro the fabric, placed in a small bag, and pulled him away.

 

“Sorry you had to see that.” Ulaz whispered. “I needed to make a scene.”  
“It's alright. I'm sorry I'm messing up.”  
“You're doing fine, I promise.” Ulaz's breath was hot in Shiro's ear. He tightened his grip on the handle. “Either way, let's carry on with the errands.” Ulaz pulled him along, Shiro getting swept up again in all the noises, smells and sights.

 

They took a lift back to the medical centre. Shiro had his face plastered to the window, hands touching the glass as he stared out in wonder. Ulaz looked away awkwardly when the other passengers in the lift glared over at him. After they squeezed out, Shiro seemed like a bundle of energy – he really was acting like an excitable kit. “I didn't recognise any of the stars or constellations. What galaxy are we in? How far is the Milky Way from here? Are we in Andromeda? Draco? Antlia? The Hydra Cluster? Are we anywhere in the Laniakea Supercluster?” Ulaz's ears drooped a little. “We don't have the same names for them as you, so I wouldn't know where they are. Unless you know what quadrant they're in?”  
“Not in the slightest, since the Galra base their quadrants from here?”  
“We do.”  
“Oh.” Shiro looked down at the floor. Ulaz patted him on the shoulder lightly. “Maybe Sendak will show you.”  
“Maybe.”  
“Are you hungry?”  
“Constantly.” Shiro grinned, but there was a sad tint to his gaze.

 

-

 

“So what did you want to make out of the fabric?” Ulaz stood in the doorway of the small room as Shiro pulled off his body suit, carefully folding it and placing it on the counter. He pulled the robe up again. He held both sides outstretched, and wrapped the left side over the right. Holding it in place, he picked up the material he'd folded in half earlier. He carefully wound it around his waist, tugging out a small loop, until he threaded the ends through. Instead of leaving the tie at the front, he moved it around to his back. “The robes reminded me of some clothing I wore back on Earth sometimes. It's called a yukata – my grandparents always used to like me wearing one as a kid. It was a dark blue and had purple marks on it. The knot's called _Sarashi Kaze_ , which means 'wind style', if I remember correctly. My grandfather taught me how to do it, but it took ages because I'd always get stuck with the heko-obi.” His smile wavered as he looked to Ulaz. “You know this has been the first time I've had any semblance of freedom; the fact I get to dress myself like this.” He slipped down the side of the bed to the floor.

 

Ulaz padded over and sat on the floor beside him. “Although I don't understand what you've been talking about for the last six vargas, I've enjoyed seeing a little glint in your eyes. You looked happier then when I gave you manchin for the first time, and you've opened up which I appreciate.”  
“You won't tell Sendak?”  
“I won't tell him.” Ulaz rubbed Shiro's shoulder as he leaned against his chest. “Can I nap while you get food?”  
“Of course. I'm also not making you manchin again so don't ask.” He tussled Shiro's hair softly and pulled himself up, offering Shiro a hand. “You aren't...wanting anything, right?” Shiro asked carefully. “I mean you're gentle, and if you were gentle during _that_ I wouldn't mind.”  
“I don't want sex from you, Shiro.” Ulaz gently eased him up and sat him on the bed. “Don't stress out and get some sleep.”

 

-

 

Unless they went out or had the dentist in, Shiro was allowed to lounge about the room without his collar. He could bathe as much as he pleased, and spent three vargas in the bath earlier in the quintant. Ulaz had allowed him a razor to shave his beard off, and focus on a few other places, but had insisted he had to remain in the room. He was at least polite and would look away. Ulaz had let him wander about in his makeshift yukata, and when he was busy, he'd practice different knots or do some light exercise in the room. Last night he managed to get some personal time to himself, which ended up being after he woke up during a sex dream between himself, Adam, and Keith. Keith was a weird addition – he liked him but didn't have any feelings like _that_ for him.

 

“Ulaz, can I cut my hair tonight?”  
“I can't see why not.” Ulaz muttered as he typed on the display, exhaling smoke through his mouth as he pulled the pipe away. Shiro hummed in appreciation and wandered over beside Ulaz, who stopped for a second, before continuing. “Sorry. I forgot you couldn't read Galran.”  
“No, but It'd be helpful to learn.”  
“Perhaps another time. Sendak's taking you back later.” Ulaz paused typing again. “Let's go get your hair sorted, and I'll need to make sure you have some proper food again before he gets here.”  
“You sound like a divorced mother talking about their ex-husband before you let the kids go for the weekend.” Shiro gave him an awkward smile, but Ulaz just stared at him. “You don't get it, do you?”  
“Sadly not, but you can explain it to me as you cut your hair.” Ulaz said, getting up from his chair.

 

“You've been the happiest this movement then I've ever seen you.” Ulaz commented as Shiro washed the hair from the back of his neck and shoulders. “It's because you've been kind to me. You've not made me do anything to you...just fed me, took me out, just shown me basic human decency.” Shiro muttered as he furiously rubbed his neck. Ulaz reached out a hand and carefully plucked the strands of hair away. “Better?”  
“Yeah. Less itchy, thanks.” He turned to Ulaz, offering a soft smile. “Do you think Sendak will let me spend time with you – like learn things?” There was a cautious edge to his tone.  
“The Commander is someone I need to be wary of, as you know,” Ulaz leaned back against the wall. “He gets jealous and temperamental with his slaves having too much outside contact. That said, so long as he considers someone non-threatening, he can be a bit lenient.”  
“Is this why he lets Haxus be around me?”  
“Partly. He and Haxus have known each other for hundreds of deca-phoebs – he was his mentor, if I'm remembering correctly.” Ulaz looked at Shiro, who seemed to be lost in thought.

 

“I used to be a mentor back on Earth.”  
“What was your pupil like?” Ulaz offered Shiro a towel to dry himself. “Where to start? I used to be a recruiter – so I went around to schools to look for prospective students to join the Garrison-”  
“Schools have kits in – children – yes?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why is a military trying to recruit children?” He cocked his eyebrow, “it's a bit barbaric, is it not?” Shiro was uncertain how to respond. He draped the towel over his head and perched on the side of the bath. “It's just what's normal on my planet. They wouldn't see active service until they were eighteen minimum.” He seemed a bit offended, Ulaz thought, but sending children no less to war was disgusting. “Well, I let them do flight simulations, and there was this one kid, Keith, who was _amazing_. Something set him off and he stole my car, and I had to get him out of a juvenile detention centre.”  
“Is that like a prison?”  
“Yeah.”  
“A child prison?”  
“Yes?”  
“I'm starting to get the impression your planet is harsher than the Galra with punishments. A child, in prison.”  
“It's not...the same. Just let me continue? You're bad at listening to stories.” Shiro chided, scowling. “I apologise, it's just...strange.”  
“Anyway. I said to come along to the Garrison and he did. Keith didn't have any parents, so it took a bit of time, but I got him in as a cadet. He was just,” Shiro smiled in his reverie, “ _such_ a good pilot. He was focussed for the most part, but got in a few fights here and there. But he was just so engaged with learning. He was set to head into the fighter pilot class like I did, and I'm just so proud of him. He's probably smashed my records by now.” Shiro chuckled to himself, absently toying with his fringe. “It made me so happy seeing him that excited the day before we launched for Kerberos. That little gleam in his eye. I miss him.” He frowned at the floor. “I hope Keith's okay.”  
“I can tell you miss this little Earthling. Was he a mate?”  
“Like a partner – girlfriend, boyfriend?”  
“Yes.” Ulaz jerked back at Shiro's sudden loud reaction. “No! No, no, no! It's not like that!” He raised his hands. “No, he was just a friend.”  
“So Earthling mentors don't bond intimately with their pupils?”  
“No! That's really unprofessional. I could've lost my job. Why? Don't tell me the Galra do?”  
“Some do, yes. Depending on circumstance, it may be frowned upon. Otherwise it's expected.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It's not usually made public.”  
“Does that mean Sendak and Haxus...” Shiro made a crude motion with his fingers, hoping to the gods the Galra understood. Ulaz watched and gave him a wry smile. “I wouldn't be surprised.” He stifled a laugh as Shiro made a retching noise. “Anyway, food.”

 

-

 

Sendak strode into the room his slave had been residing in for the last movement, to find him and Ulaz sat talking, his medical officer wrapping some gauze around the slaves' hand. “What happened to him?” The two looked up, and quickly straightened themselves out, bowing to him. “Please follow.” Ulaz motioned for Sendak to follow him to the small room. He pointed to the glass, that had remained shattered, and quickly shut the door behind them. “The High Priestess refined the tank's quintessence herself. When I was talking him through his injuries – one that may have been partial _blindness_ ,” Ulaz glowered at Sendak, “and explained that it wasn't just you who used him, _that_ happened.” He motioned again at the smashed glass. “I also have a report for you which, frankly, you're not going to like.” He paced around the room, finally getting to unleash some of his grievances. He couldn't really lay into Sendak, but this was usually the angriest he got with the Commander. “He almost died because of all of that.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“The blood loss? That cuff you crushed into his wrist? If myself and the druid didn't manage to pick the chunks out, it would have killed him if it got to his heart.”  
“Don't dictate to _me_ what I can and can't do to him.” Sendak growled. “I'm preforming my job, something you want of your crew.” Ulaz spat. Sendak exhaled, pacing around the room.

 

“Is he fit to fight?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I asked if he was fit to fight. Emperor Zarkon wants to see what I have taught him.”  
“He would need to remain on a steady diet and actually do some training. When is it scheduled?”  
“In two quintants.”  
“He's healed, bar the hand, which I am refusing to use quintessence for after _that_.”  
“Understandable.” Sendak rubbed his eyes, growling to himself. “He won't be going back to the ship. I've been grounded to Central Command for the foreseeable future. You will continue to be his healer, but his move to Central's prisoner cells has been complete. You'll be happy to know I don't plan on having him tonight.” Sendak moved from the room back out to his slave, sat studying him from the table. “You and I will be doing some training tomorrow. You have been moved to a new cell on Central Command. Ulaz will be escorting you there shortly.” With that, he left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed I've updated the tags - I think those are platonic tags? I know I've implied other things, but generally speaking I'm unsure if I'm going to write any smut yet between Haxus and Sendak, or even Ulaz and Shiro. I mean I like Shiro being an utter bicycle (I've a fic started which is just called Shiro the Village bicycle and tbh it's just literally crack ship hell. It's not posted, but I'm writing it every so often).
> 
> I also presume Zarkon knows of Kolivan. I actually like the idea of Kolivan and Sendak having a rivalry? I've been chatting with Kimmimaru a bit about that one at times but just unsure if will do anything with it. Kolivan won't be appearing in this fic though, which is a shame.
> 
> FIGHTING NEXT CHAPTER MY DUDES! yASSS.  
> Did u know i like fight scenes?  
> Sorry, it's been a very long week for me.
> 
> Fun facts: the galaxies and clusters mentioned are all real. I gave myself a existential crisis last night about it and felt so very, very small. Also I looked up the stuff about the yukata, the name of the type of sash, and the knot, and cross referenced a few websites. I also may or may not have a stupid spin-off au from this au where they go to the space mall and Haxus thinks Shiro would be a great model).


	11. Tuition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos again!
> 
> I've had to push back the fights to next chapter because I honestly couldn't get them right and how I wanted them. So there's some sparring and some sex to make up for it, and useless male 'armour'.
> 
> I'm also feeling super-tired and drained since my phone broke on Thursday, and so I had to wait for my replacement to turn up. It's all been wonderfully stressful. I do hope though you enjoy the following chapter...Shiro's going to have...an interesting time with Sendak, not gonna lie.

The sword clattered to the floor, followed by a dull thud.  
“Is that the best you can do?”  
“You've been working me...for...two vargas...straight.” Shiro wheezed, wiping sweat from his brow and airing the body suit around his chest. “That's no time at all.” Sendak paced over and dragged him to his feet, roughly pulling his face up. “You will run the drill again.”  
“Can I at least drink something? Please?”  
“Fine. Your body is damp.” Sendak wiped his hand against Shiro's cheek, before motioning him to follow towards the small terminal. He handed Shiro a bottle, which he chugged down quickly. Sendak eyed him as he handed him another, which Shiro drank slower this time. He poured the remaining contents of it over his head, scrubbing the cold water into his face. “Why did you do that for?”  
“My skin feels sticky.” He answered, blinking water from his eyes. Sendak hummed and tapped his claws on the terminal. “You've completed the basic training quicker than I was expecting.”  
“Back at the Garrison we were trained in hand-to-hand combat and firearms. I've also taken some different martial arts and boxing classes before.” Shiro looked up to Sendak as he scrolled through a list, pausing to read on occasions. “I will put you on an advanced training programme to see how you handle it. The AI will be set to attack lethally.”  
“Great.” Shiro mumbled. “Can I at least rest a little?” Sendak observed him, before sighing. “I suppose so. I don't fancy Ulaz whining at me like a disgruntled mother.” Shiro bit his tongue so not to laugh. He settled down with his back pressed against the wall, closing his eyes.

 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Shiro opened his eyes to look at Sendak's back. “That's because I am, Commander.”  
“What do you enjoy about it?”  
“The adrenaline. The thrill. Feeling alive. I've never really thought about it.” Shiro looked at the floor in front of him. He enjoyed the discipline behind the martial arts and the focus required for fighting in general. The training was also good to keep him in peak condition even after he was diagnosed. “Why are you so interested in what your slave likes?” He dared to ask. Sendak turned around, leaning back on the terminal. “I noticed you smiling. That was all.”  
“Oh, okay.” Shiro closed his eyes again, hoping Sendak wouldn't pester him.

 

“You fight differently here compared to the arena. It's less wild and more calculated.”  
“I was calculated in the arena.”  
“It's different.”  
“That's because the AI hasn't been set to kill me, has it?”  
“There is that.” Sendak paused. “Do you know why you're being trained?”  
“You want me exhausted before you torture me again? You like your slaves drenched in sweat before you destroy their assholes?”  
“I'm not in the mood for your pettiness.”  
“ _How am I being petty?_ ” Shiro pulled himself up from the floor, fists clenched at his sides. “You threatened to throw me out an air lock, dragged me through the ship, lacerated my skin and between being conscious, raped me, _again_.”  
“It was your punishment for trying to escape.” Sendak glared at Shiro. “Don't push it.”  
“Or what? What else can you do?”  
“I can make sure the other prisoners you were with suffer.” Sendak replied coolly.

 

“N-No.” He whispered, pushing himself against the wall as Sendak's imposing figure approached. “Yes, slave, I can and I will.” He spat. “ _You_ were rightly punished for trying to escape. If _you_ hadn't assaulted the guard, whose career _you_ have ruined I may add, then the guard who attacked _you_ would never have tried to honour him. This. Was. Your. Fault.” He jabbed his claw into Shiro's chest for emphasis, hot breath against his face. “For all your petulant whining, I don't see you curbing your behaviour. Is it because you perhaps _like_ this?” Shiro felt the clawed hand drift down his front, slowly massaging his groin.

 

He wouldn't admit it, but the touch presently actually felt good. “Every time I've tried to toe the line, it's never good enough for you.” Shiro hissed through his teeth. Sendak squeezed harder. “But you weren't really, were you? You only behaved – and I use the word sparingly – because of what Haxus promised. You are self-serving in nature, with no consideration for those around you.” He dug his claws into the fabric. Sendak was right about the former. Shiro screwed his eyes shut. “Your silence is as good as agreement.” The fingers lingered, slowly stroking his semi-hard cock. “I-I'm not self-serving.”  
“How?” Sendak rubbed small circles around the head.  
“Everything...I do...is for those I care about.” Shiro breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as he dug his fingers into the wall behind him. _You just had to crack this way, didn't you? Stupid boy. He's going to use this against you, if he didn't already know._ The hand pulled away, leaving Shiro's body to shudder. “Explain to me,” Sendak placed his hands behind his back as he walked away, “how you are not self-serving.”

 

Shiro could feel the sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, staring at the floor. Sendak turned his head to study him. “Has it dawned on you yet?” Shiro clenched his teeth and balled his fists together. “I've _behaved_ for you so you didn't have a reason to take it out on my friends or use it against me as blackmail. Being self-serving means I wouldn't consider others in my decisions-”  
“In all my deca-phoebs, I have never heard such tripe.” Sendak let his hands fall to his sides, and an overwhelming sense of dread swept over Shiro. “You seem to forget I have access to your file, to your _life.”  
_ “ _Please_ , don't do this.” Shiro couldn't push himself further into the wall and slipped down the freezing metal.  
“Your relationship with your old mate? It seemed you liked to focus on your career over him. How many times did you argue, did he compromise his values for you? You chose to leave him for space without a care. The kit you mentored? Another selfish action to boost your self-esteem and give you the illusion of self-worth. Every achievement you made back on your inconsequential planet was to try and secure you a place in the tapestry of history, but ultimately, all just self-serving actions put into place so someone would remember you after you died. So you can sit there quivering like a yupper all you damn well please, but get it in to your tiny brain that you are just as selfish as the rest of us, and it would do you well to remember that. Your self-righteous martyr complex will lead you nowhere.” Sendak towered over him and leaned down.

 

“Nothing to say?” Sendak traced his hand down Shiro's face. “I was looking forward to a rebuttal from that noisy little mouth of yours.” He purred, stroking his claw over Shiro's lips. “You might detest me for what I do to you physically, but did you really think I wouldn't mentally be able to break you down?” He whispered, golden eyes gleaming. He slipped his hand down Shiro's jawline and slowly pulled away. “Now up. You've had time to rest.” He clapped his hands and Shiro jerked back to reality, scrambling to his feet and almost tripping over himself. “The AI will be lethal. Do try to concentrate.” Sendak taunted as he pressed the screen. Shiro took a deep breath and exhaled, drawing the sword in front of him and widening his stance as the training robot emerged from the floor, holding the same falchion-like sword as he did, it's 'eyes' glowing violet as it came to life. “Begin!” Sendak barked.

 

The robot was upon him quickly, bringing it's sword down hard. He blocked the attack; sword held length-ways, knees bent. He shouted as he pushed back against the robot, sending it pacing back a few steps. It pulled back the sword and crouched low, before launching itself again and slashing low. Once again Shiro was on the defensive, giving a quick parry. The blade deflected and skimmed his side, nicking the skin in the process. Shiro hissed out, and while it was low, used his elbow to bash it in the top of the head. It hit the ground. Shiro pivoted around and struck along the thick metal. He took a few back-steps as his opponent rolled over and up onto one knee, sword over it's chest.

 

The robot lunged again for him, but at the last moment feinted to the side as Shiro went to parry. The blade slashed across the right of his chest, a few inches below his armpit. He yelled out in pain and stumbled backwards, clutching the wound with his left hand. His parry attempts were getting weaker and more desperate until the sword was knocked out of his hand. The robot drew the blade back and made to slash across his neck-  
“Idiot!”  
It was grabbed and smashed into the wall opposite him. As Sendak pulled his prosthetic back, the robot fell to a crumpled, sparking heap on the floor with a crash. Shiro panted heavily with his hand to the collar, eyes wide and fixated on the space in front of him.

 

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid! He had you rattled, you lost your focus._ No it was my fault. _Don't go blaming yourself for what he said. He wanted you to lose, he wants to manipulate you, break you down._ But I let it go. _Because you were distracted?_ Which is my fault. _Don't let him get to you. He wants you malleable so you're easy to control. No one controls us and no one ever will_. But what if we're being obdurate and fuck up? What if we have been and that's how we've got ourself to this point. He had a point earlier – about being selfish. _It's a tactic! He's ancient and has probably done this plenty of times before. Trust yourself, he wants to break you so you become a tool or some entertainment for them. He doesn't care and won't ever care._

 

“Stop muttering nonsense to yourself.” Sendak rolled Shiro onto this left side and looked at the wound. “Stay.” Shiro watched as Sendak pulled some wipes from the bag and patted down the wound and roughly cleaned it. Shiro sucked in air through his teeth, wincing as Sendak leaned against one of his ribs. “Sit up.” Shiro complied, noting the small pack of medical supplies by his leg. Sendak pulled out a spray bottle and squirted it at the cut, before pulling out some gauze and wrapping it around his chest. “The spray will stop the wound from becoming infected. I am told you cannot have quintessence, so it will scar over.” Sendak sniffed, taking Shiro's left hand and pulling the bandages off. “Your knuckles need a clean. Hand.” Regardless, he grabbed the wrist and sprayed the wound, before reapplying new bandages.

 

“You lost when you gave your opponent time to get up.”  
“I thought I couldn't get another hit in without being open.”  
“You think too much. Unlike the arena, fight to kill as quickly as possible. Leave your opponent with no quarter. You had the time to strike. Until then you were doing well.” Sendak knotted the bandages tight, looking at him. “You could be so much stronger than you are now.”  
“Do you think so?” Shiro's inner voice was screaming at him, but he assured it he was just playing along. “Yes. You appear strong, but you are not truly disciplined or trained effectively.”  
“What's the catch?”  
“You need to prove your worth and willingness.” Sendak ruffled his hair, and guided him towards the exit.

 

-

 

Shiro was awoken early the next morning. He was in a foul mood and running on a lack of sleep. Two sentries came to escort him to Sendak's quarters. These were different then the ones on the ship, they seemed better kept. He still didn't know why he had to fight today still, but considering how Sendak was yesterday, he imagined it was serious. He yawned loudly; his night had been full of the sounds of screams, crying and fucking. He'd also been running over what Sendak had said, about becoming stronger. If they used him, he could use them back. It would fit in well with when he could see Nadiva again. He'd join the rebels, and the more training and strength he had, the better their chances of escape.

 

After several trips on different lifts and a lot of walking, they arrived in a spacious hall. Four large warped pillars stood in a square, giving off the usual violet light, while around the room strange up-turned diamonds floated above a dipped surface, again glowing. In the centre there sat a strange crystal – the only curved object in the room – being held to a strange glowing 'fountain', at his best guess, by metal points. Three stairwells in the cardinal directions trailed up to long hallways, all lit with the usual violet strip lights. Shiro was surprised the Galra cared for such decoration; it seemed far too elaborate for them. He peered at the huge metal support columns, noting glowing Galran words carved into them. The sentries led him up the flight of stairs directly in front of them, until they stopped at a black door.

 

The sentry pressed the intercom, and a few seconds later the door swished open to reveal a spacious atrium. They shoved him through the threshold before the door shut behind them. He heard the familiar click of the locks setting into place and slowly turned back to the room. Tall black pillars – about four metres tall, supported a curved ceiling with what he first thought was a mural of the stars, until he realised they flickered and moved. He let out a small gasp, before tearing his eyes away from the hypnotic display. The room was about fifteen metres squared, with dark and light grey metal tiles. The dark walls had thick violet white strip lighting running up them, ending in small prism-shaped lights. Scattered about the room were royal-purple chairs and sofas and small tables. In the centre sat a diamond-shaped depression with bright liquid settled on the surface. Shiro moved towards it and poked the surface, small ripples radiating out. It was warm to the touch.

 

He looked up to see three small archways leading off in different directions. The one directly in front of him led to another room, that seemed dimly lit by comparison. Cautiously he stalked forwards; confused that Sendak hadn't come for him yet. He peered into the room to find it sparsely decorated. A few weapons hung on the wall – too high for him to reach. There were a few different swords – one in particular looked ancient but very well worn. Moving left, he found glass cases with several sets of armour. He squinted through the low light at one of the designs.

 

“That was my armour when I was first accepted into the Royal Guard.”  
Shiro whipped his head around to find Sendak leaning against the arch, a mug in his hand, and eyes glowing eerily in the low light. “I...sorry, I didn't mean to pry.” Shiro quickly paced over to Sendak, who hummed at him, tussling his hair. “There is no door, so it's fine. Come, you can eat with me.” He let his hand slide from Shiro's hair and meandered out of the room. Something was weird, and it wasn't just because Sendak wasn't wearing his usual prosthetic – this was more like a regular sized hand.

 

“How did you sleep?”  
“Not well,” Shiro hesitated at the threshold as Sendak seated himself. The commander patted the seat next to him, and Shiro strode over, “the neighbours are noisy.” He finished, perching on the seat awkwardly. Sendak gave him a once over, noting the dark rings under his eyes. “Well the rabble from the ship have been moved off, and most of them will be fighting the Champion.” Sendak yawned as he placed a mug in front of Shiro and pushed a small lidded pot towards him. “It's invigorating leaf water. Wakes you up.” Sendak motioned to his mug. Shiro blinked, pulling it towards him. He opened to lid and couldn't help but giggle. “It's tea. You've got tea.”  
“No, leaf water.”  
“No, we have this drink called tea back on Earth, and it's made of tea leaves. Some people call it leaf water. Thanks.” He bowed his head since he didn't fancy pissing him off again today. Sendak shrugged and sipped his tea. “Eat. I need to make a few calls.” He supported himself as he moved away from the table. After he left, Shiro pulled a few plates of food towards him. He recognised none of it, and made nervous sniffs at some of the more appetising-looking foodstuffs.

 

-

 

Sendak had slept as bad as his slave had. He rubbed his tired eyes and drained the mug, setting it down on the desk in his office. He pulled his communicator from the drawer and placed it in the docking station. He lazily tapped at it until he found Haxus's number. It rang for a dobosh until it was answered.  
“Commander?”  
“Yeah. How did it go?” There was silence for a few ticks. “I ache all over and got torn up badly.”  
“Did you take it?”  
“I mean I did.”  
“But?”  
“I'm not in the mood for your awful puns, Commander.”  
“Don't dodge the question.” He heard a grunt on the other end. “I said I got torn up. It's going to heal wrong I know it.”  
“You'll be alright. It is a shock to the system.”  
“Anyway why did you call? You woke me up.”  
“To do just that. You're going to be summoned in two vargas, as a heads up.” There was another pause  
“Can I visit later?”  
“Yeah sure. We will speak later, I have some more calls to make. But get ready – I order you not to be late.”  
“Oh trust me I won't be.”  
Sendak cut the call and yawned again, scrolling back down his contact list.

 

-

 

“I see you have eaten. Good.” Sendak observed as he padded back into the room. He pulled the pot towards him, pouring more into his mug. “Permission to speak?”  
“Granted.”  
“I'm still uncertain about why you had me training. What's happening later?” Sendak set the cut of meat he was about to eat back to his plate, noting the slave shift in the chair. “The Emperor has requested that I show him what you have learned in the form of a fight. So you and I will be fighting.”  
“W-We're fighting?”  
“Yes.” Sendak knitted his brow. “Not to the death. It's part of a dual purpose.”  
“Is it like the arena? Get your opponent into an immovable position?”  
“First to draw blood. We'll be using those swords from yester-quintant, since those are ceremonial duelling blades.” Sendak drained his mug. “You will also witness an honour duel between myself and Haxus.”  
“Did he...dishonour you?” The slave was careful in his wording. At least he didn't ask why. Sendak chewed a bit of meat he'd pulled from his slice. “Yes. He should never of tried to exchange information for your servitude, and regarding that, he's insulted me in the process.” He gave his slave a once over. “I have never required help training a slave before, nor do I need it.” He picked up the slice and pushed it into his mouth.

 

“Come. We are to be clean.” Sendak rose and Shiro followed suit. They wandered through a wide corridor only decorated with lights until they came to a door at the end. As they stepped through, Shiro made a small gasp. “These quarters used to belong to my clan, so the size is understandably large.” Sendak gently guided him towards a recess and let go. He touched a panel on the side of the wall, and water cascaded from the large shower heads. Sendak stripped away his under suit and padded under the water. Shiro, too distracted by everything else and trying to avoid looking at the naked commander, was brought back to reality when a firm hand clapped around the back of his neck, releasing the collar. “If you want me to strip you, I will.” There was the hint of playfulness somewhere in that gruff voice. Shiro fumbled with his body suit and placed the collar carefully on top of the folded clothes, before guardedly moving under the water.

 

Sendak paid him no mind as they washed for the most part in silence. Shiro was passed a handful of bottles to use, occasionally stealing glances at the deep scars on the commander's back. He had a few; one that went from his left shoulder blade and curved over the top of his right ass cheek was the most prominent. It wasn't straight or clean cut either. He quickly turned away to stare at the wall; he didn't fancy explaining himself to Sendak if he'd been caught, and knowing him, it'd be an excuse to fuck him in the shower. _Do you remember when Adam and you fucked a lot in the shower?_ Oh Jesus-fucking-Christ, no. _Remember when you'd push him against the wall and he'd grab your shoulders and bite your neck? When you'd tease him and have him begging._ Please, no. _“Takashi, ahh! Harder!”  
_ “Stop it!” Shiro grabbed the sides of his head and stumbled towards the wall, leaning his head against the cold tiles. “It's not appropriate.”

 

“What's not appropriate? Aside from shouting this early in the morning?” Sendak glanced round at him. “You've been muttering to yourself again, which is strange already, but please do tell me.” Shiro glared at the floor. “It'd rather not talk about it.”  
“Fine. Regardless let me look at you.”  
“Why?”  
“To see if you are clean enough.”  
“The front's clean.” _Fuck sake_.  
“What are you hiding.” He felt a cold hand on his shoulder that turned him roughly into the wall. Sendak inspected his face and trailed his gaze down. “Is that it? You became aroused?” He scowled, batting away Shiro's hands. He took Shiro between two fingers in a v-shape and spun him back around to face the wall, moving them slowly up and down his length. Shiro couldn't help his reaction and moved into the touch, making small breathy moans as Sendak worked up a rhythm, tightening and easing his grip around him. In turn, he grabbed Sendak's wrist tight and ground his hips upwards, letting his head roll back into his wet chest.

 

He felt cold fingers brush over his jugular and squeeze lightly. His mouth parted open, water splashing over his lips. Sendak's purr rumbled as he pulled Shiro up from the ground with his prosthetic arm easily, Shiro gripping the bar with his right hand to steady himself. He felt the hand release from his cock, and whined pathetically, until he felt something hard push between his ass cheeks. “N-No.”  
“Yes.” Sendak pushed himself in, earning a pained grunt from Shiro as he leaned forward to brace himself. The hand came back to his cock and pumped agonisingly slowly, while Sendak thrust into his ass. The ridges dragged along his hot insides, drawing out a long moan as Shiro arched his back. He didn't want him in there, but as he thrust back and forth, not as rough as usual, he found the actions _careful_. “I'm very pleased with you.” The hot breath along his neck made Shiro jerk his body. “If you weren't so abrasive.” He felt his tongue trail along his neck and over his collar bone. “Or misbehaved so frequently, it would feel good like this.” He felt those sharp teeth nip lightly at his neck. God, he was getting close.

 

“I don't...can't tell...what you want.”  
“Retain your will to fight.” Sendak stepped away from the wall, wrapping his arm over Shiro's waist and holding his chest tightly. “But remember.” Shiro's eyes rolled back as he felt Sendak's entire length fill him. “You are mine in mind, body and soul.” He punctuated each word with deep thrusts, hitting Shiro's prostate. “I demand unwavering trust, respect and loyalty in public, and private.” He let out a low growl as he slowly dropped down to his knees, placing Shiro on the wet tiles. “But know it will be returned.” His snarl was feral as his thrusts became more erratic. Shiro, a moaning mess on the tiles, pushed his hips back with fervour. Sendak grabbed his hips with both hands as he released a pleased growl. Shiro grabbed his own cock and stroked himself between incoherent moans. He was close. The blood pumped in his ears and the noise of the shower drowned out the increasingly feral growls between them until Sendak dug his fingers in hard to Shiro's hips and emptied himself. Seeing stars, Shiro's orgasm fired on to the tiles. The two panted, Sendak easing Shiro up nip and lick at the side of his neck. “Good boy.”

 

-

 

After the impromptu shower sex, which had left both him and his slave unnaturally tired, Sendak had allowed a small nap of fifteen doboshs. He'd made a small nest of towels on his bed for the two of them, and set an alarm just in case. His slave was already asleep, snoring lightly in a ball, while Sendak absently ran his claws along the soft skin over his back, eyes closed and listening to the breathing. He'd never really considered what he wanted before, because things like this never crossed his mind. He draped an arm over the warm but damp body, stroking the chest lightly. He'd prefer a day like this instead.

 

-

 

“I'm supposed to fight in this?”  
“It's customary.”  
“I...” Shiro pulled his hands from his hips, stroking his chin as he picked up the flimsy material. “I might as well be fighting naked. Do you have to fight in this?”  
“No, I'm not a slave.” The tiniest smirk pulled at Sendak's lips as he watched him. “Since we are supposed to be drawing first blood, it's usually from across the chest.”  
“I see.” Shiro flattened out the outfit, not particularly convinced Sendak was being truthful. He rubbed the back of his hair and pulled up the dark grey studded arm guards. He checked the ends and threaded his arm through the largest hole, lacing his fingers into the correct holes and clenching his fist. “This fits _too_ perfectly.” He frowned at Sendak. “This is custom.”  
“It is. Still in the style required.” Sendak stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

He pulled the other guard over his arm and stared at the boots. He measured them against his leg and glared at Sendak before sighing. Settling on the bed, he loosened the buckles along the side and shoved his foot in, rolling backwards as he pulled the leathery material up and over his knee. He grabbed the other and forced himself into that before fastening the buckles along his thighs and calves. “If we didn't have to do things, I'd keep you in just this.” Sendak purred approvingly, running his clawed hand down Shiro's thigh. He pulled away from the touch, the area still sensitive after earlier. “I-I need to finish changing.” He turned, pushing the straps away and taking the miniscule pieces of leather in his hands. “Which...way do I put these on?”  
"The flaps protect your rear.” Sendak smiled devilishly.

 

Shiro pulled them up. It felt like he was wearing tight creaky underwear with just enough room for his genitals to rest in semi-comfortably. The leather rode up around his ass, and the flaps that were supposed to protect his rear barely covered it at all. It also sat around his hips, displaying the muscle definition. “I feel we're off to a bondage club, or to some sex dungeon.” He muttered, picking up the straps and waving them at Sendak. “Where do these even go?”  
“Allow me.” With an ever-growing grin, Sendak took them in his hands and turned Shiro around, attaching them so they crossed over his back and chest. “You are dressed. Go clean your collar and come back here afterwards. I must prepare myself.” He moved towards a small room as Shiro wandered out, pulling the leather down that rode up uncomfortably.

 

-

 

The trip up to the throne room was arduous on the basis that everyone they passed just stared. Shiro was acutely aware of how he looked, being walked a little better than a dog on a leash and wearing effectively nothing. The stares and whispers burned him, while the air around him was bitingly cold. Sendak seemed quite content walking around in his burgundy and golden armour, the energy rope leash held loosely in his prosthetic hand. He'd switched back to his usual one, with the violet energy between the shoulder and elbow.

 

As they stopped outside a huge set of double doors, Shiro looked up to see Haxus awkwardly shifting on his feet. He wore the same type of armour as Sendak. “I'm glad to see you made it in time.” Sendak called, quickening his pace. Shiro jogged along behind, lest he be dragged across the floor. “Commander, good morning.” Haxus stood to attention. His usual snarky disposition was gone, and it was a little unsettling. Haxus flicked his gaze to Shiro, likely taking his attire in. “He looks...” He licked his lips, dragging his eyes away. “He looks ready for his fight later.”  
“He does.” Shiro didn't need to see his face to know he was smirking. “Come. The Emperor awaits.” He tugged Shiro along as he moved to the doors. They opened wide to reveal a long room with a huge vista window. At the far end, four figures awaited. Shiro swallowed as they started in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few general notes:  
> \- The architecture, though Galran aesthetic, is based loosely around Roman architecture. Especially Sendak's quarters on Central Command.  
> \- When Shiro's inner voice is talking to him, that's internal. When it's not in italics during these segments, it's when he's muttering to himself. I made it specifically in speech marks during this section because he reallllly does not want to be thinking about that in the moment. The act of him having these internal debates and conversations is a grounding sense for him, so he doesn't lose himself.  
> \- Shiro's outfit is really impracticable because I wished it to be. It's something I really fancy drawing as well some time.
> 
> Outside of that I enjoyed this chapter a fair bit. The sex I think is dub con at best? So will tag just in case. I'm a bit frustrated since I'm writing with a headache and a bit tired, but I don't mind hugely.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Crushed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a nice chapter. There's fights! And...well...I'll let you find out. New OC in here for a bit.
> 
> This was a frustrating chapter at times to write, but I'm happy enough with it.
> 
> This chapter took a bit longer as well since I've written a small Sheith valentines day fic. It's called Sunset and live c: it's a nice fic, not so stressful like this one.
> 
> Thank you all for being lovely; the comments, kudos and subs are great ways to keep me going, and I do love hearing from you all!

“You please me by being early.” Zarkon settled into his throne, tapping his claws against the metal. “Did you rest well, Lieutenant Haxus?”  
“Yes, Sire.” Shiro cautiously let his eyes wander to Haxus, his teeth were grit tightly together. He seemed off out in the hall, and Zarkon's remark was too pointed; something had happened.  
“You are aware why we are gathered, yes?”  
“Yes, Emperor Zarkon.” Sendak bowed his head lower to the ground. “All parties have been briefed upon their circumstances.”  
“Excellent. Druid, bring me the slave. Commander, Lieutenant, take a sword.” Zarkon motioned for the two druids that flanked him to come forward. The druid approached Shiro, who raised his head slowly when he felt the tug on the leash. It was the same plague doctor mask. He opened his mouth to speak, but recalled Sendak's strict warning on speaking out of turn in the Emperor's presence.

 

He was brought to the foot of the throne. He let his eyes wander to his right, noting the other slave sat on their knees, a long thin tail curled around their waist. They were 'dressed' in loose dark translucent fabrics, held together by small rings of metal. They caught his stare from the corner of their eye. In silence they acknowledged each other, before the alien turned their attention back to the two Galra. Shiro settled as comfortably on his knees as he could as he tried to mimic the position. He tensed when he felt a hand run through his hair, teasing the strands. “You wish to become one of my concubines?” He looked up to look into the strange violet white eyes peering down at him, finger pointed to how he was sat. He wanted to answer or shake his head no, but that would be a mistake. Instead, he shifted so he sat on his rear. He just had to put up with a cold ass for the time being. He glanced down, but noticed the other slave watching him curiously. Their lips lifted ever so slightly, before nodding their head to the scene in front of them.

 

The fight hadn't started yet, but Haxus and Sendak stood with the blades crossed, like in a fencing duel. The cloaked figure withdrew themselves from the vicinity, before Zarkon stood. He towered over Shiro. His presence made the deepest part of his mind freeze up; there was something about Zarkon that felt wrong, that in being alive he defiled life itself. He watched as Zarkon slowly took each step down, and the alien to his side crawled over to him, petting at his face with all the restraint of a toddler.  
“The Emperor brought Yastara here to play.”  
“What do you mean?” Something cold stirred in Shiro's gut.  
“Yastara has said, silly pet.” They spoke in a silky, innocent manner, but there was something off about them he couldn't quite place. Yastara pushed Shiro to the ground, running their soft fingers over his cheek and leaning down, nibbling gently on his lip. “You have a collar like Yastara,” they pointed to their neck, “we are equal. Well, Yastara is more experienced.” They puffed out their chest as they sat up on Shiro's stomach, tail unfurled and the bulbous tip poking at Shiro's lips. “Ohh, Yastara is forgetting. We must only have soft play.” They huffed like a petulant child and shuffled backwards. Shiro noted that unlike himself, this Yastara wasn't leashed or bound. They scooted around behind Shiro, and with more strength then what their body alluded to, Yastara lifted Shiro under his shoulders.

 

Shiro ended up settled between Yastara's legs, the tail looped twice around his thigh and the bronze hands roamed over his scars. “You have been bad, yes? You should be good for your master.” They whispered, poking Shiro's bound hands. Shiro bit his lip as he tried to focus, albeit poorly, on Zarkon's speech to the two. He'd picked up a few words: honour, pride, disrespect, and recompense, but that was it. Yastara would not shut up, and kept pinching, prodding, poking, and petting him. Why did Zarkon have to bring a slave along, let alone this one? “Look, master is raising his hand! They'll fight, little pet, they'll fight!” They shook Shiro violently, giggling and holding his head forward. “Watch, watch!” Shiro shivered at the happy laughter in his ear, and swallowed back the sick feeling in his stomach when the tail unfurled and started rubbing slowly between his legs.

 

“Vrepit Sa!” Zarkon lowered his hand, and Sendak launched forward, slashing diagonally down at Haxus. Haxus brought his blade across, intercepting the strike with a small grin. Sendak drew his lips back and snarled as he applied more force, the blades screeching in protest. Haxus growled back before pulling away, hissing in frustration as he side-stepped round to strike at Sendak. His attempt was stopped fast when Sendak pivoted in place, blade drawn across. The two grinned at each other. They'd have to stop dancing about sooner or later.

 

Haxus jumped backwards and crouched low, eyes scanning for any visible breaks in Sendak's guard. He wrinkled his nose. None. He growled and came forward to block Sendak's downwards slash, the blades singing again as they struck. He couldn't hold this position for long, and Sendak knew it as he pressed down harder. His brow was furrowed in concentration and lips curled back. Haxus snarled, pulling the blade away. Sendak quickly stopped himself from stumbling forward, snapping his teeth together and back-pedalling. He slashed his sword to his side and launched again with a roar. Haxus cursed internally. He couldn't take Sendak in a full frontal charge, but what his Commander lacked was manoeuvrability. Haxus ran towards him, dragging the blade across the floor and bringing it upwards with a screech. At the last second, Haxus dove alongside Sendak, the blade drawn adjacent to his shoulder. It skimmed along Sendak's pauldron, leaving a fine scratch. He let out a soft chuckle as he pulled himself around behind Sendak, aiming a slash across the back.

 

“ _What_?”  
“I knew you'd get behind me. You never did well against a head-on assault. It's a bit like how you went behind my back with the slave, and your other discretions.” Sendak's voice was a low rumble in this throat. He shoved Haxus back hard with the blade and paced slowly around him, infuriated by the attempted strike. Haxus followed his steps attentively, feeling uncertainty rise in his chest. “You _severely_ hurt my pride with your actions,” Sendak continued, “and the trust and loyalty you betrayed – an insult!” He slashed the blade in frustration. “Do you think me _weak_?”  
“No!” Haxus yelled, gripping the sword tight, “I only sought to aid you, as you have aided me through your tutelage. I admit I have acted not on your behest, but my intention was only to punish those that slighted you and caused offence.” Haxus locked eyes with Sendak, eyes narrowed, “my resolve to serving you and the Emperor is absolute, and if I need to beat some sense into you, Commander, I will!” He snarled, charging forward and drawing the sword above his head. Sendak roared again as he lunged, bringing his sword horizontally across.

 

Shiro watched the sword fly across the hall, landing with a clatter and skidding away. It was silent, and slowly he moved his eyes back to the figures in the middle of the room, trying to focus and ignore the throbbing pain between his legs; Yastara hadn't relented touching him, and he'd bit down on his tongue far too many times so not to cry and moan out. Haxus knelt on the floor, nursing the under suit below his armour. Above, Sendak stood perfectly still, staring down at him. He released the blade and bent down, placing a hand on Haxus's shoulder and leaning in. Shiro tried to strain his ears, but if they were talking, he couldn't hear it at all.

 

“Commander Sendak is victorious.” Zarkon moved forwards, letting his hands drop to the sides. He watched Sendak pull Haxus up by the forearm, and the two turned to bow to him. He raised his hand, looking between them. “Lieutenant.”  
“Yes, Sire?”  
“What have you learned from your experiences?” Zarkon eyed the wound; it was shallow enough it would heal over fine enough. Many deca-phoebs ago, Sendak struggled with restraint, but perhaps now he was learning. “That though my loyalty to my Commander is strong and true, I should only act on his explicit command. My actions could be construed as mutinous and dishonourable, as you have rightly educated me.”  
“Precisely.” Zarkon nodded in approval, before motioning the two to relax. “Yastara!”

 

Yastara looked up, eyes wide, as they ground their tail harder between Shiro's thighs. They rolled Shiro to the side, mewling, “Master?”  
“Attend to the Lieutenant. Clean the wound.”  
“Yes! It pleases Yastara that you can trust! Thank you, Master!” They rose, and tottered over to one of the Druids, who passed them a small medical kit similar to the one Sendak had when they were training. Shiro paused, narrowing his eyes as he watched Yastara. Their back was scarred. He gazed where it trailed to, left shoulder to the right, a diagonal cut. Jagged. He bit back a gasp; he'd seen that scarring earlier. It wasn't identical but...he lifted his gaze to Sendak, who was listening to Zarkon it seemed. The golden eyes caught his, and Shiro jerked his head towards Yastara, frowning, and then back to him. Sendak's gaze drifted back to the Emperor and Shiro clenched his fists in frustration.

 

Shiro's eyes flicked back to Yastara, who had led Haxus to sit on the steps nearby. The unnaturally excitable slave delicately cleaned the wounds, Haxus patting the russet mess of hair on their head. They mewled in appreciation, and Shiro closed his eyes. He couldn't turn out like that; so desperate, broken and utterly defeated. _Unless it's naivety and they truly think Zarkon cares._ We're not having this conversation. It's fucked up. _It is. We're no Galran cumdumpster._

“Are you talking to yourself again, slave?”  
Shiro blinked his eyes open and stared up into Sendak's eyes. “I...”  
“It's irrelevant. What were you staring at me for?” He leaned down and pressed a clawed finger to Shiro's hand restraints, then to the collar, releasing the leash. “Yastara has the same scar as you.”  
“You are mistaken.” Sendak pulled Shiro up roughly. “Come. We fight soon.”  
“But-”  
“Recall I don't like questions. You are imagining it.” Sendak hissed, spraying spit into his face. He pushed Shiro roughly down the steps by the shoulder. Shiro tried to keep his footing as he was forced towards the Emperor, expressionless as always.

 

“What should I call you, slave?” Zarkon drawled as he leaned down, examining Shiro like an animal in a zoo. He had to reign himself in. “Whatever you call me, Emperor, it is correct.” Shiro kept his body tense and to attention. There was a hollow laugh from behind him. “Did you enjoy yourself with Yastara? They are one of my more pliant concubines. Loyal, trusting...understand their place. Do you understand yours?” Zarkon had circled back to stand in front of him, baring down. “Y-Yes, Emperor.”  
“Where is it?”  
“H-Here.” Shiro dropped to his knees, bowing his head low and holding his arm over his chest. Zarkon didn't acknowledge him. Instead he clicked his claws for Shiro to rise. “Sendak. It appears he has learned some level of respect.”  
“He still requires work.” Sendak tilted Shiro's face up, grinning at the fear in his eyes.

 

“Will you be fighting without a sword?”  
“I shall, Emperor Zarkon. I should _try_ to level the playing field.”  
“It would be a better way to discern his teachings.” Zarkon turned and made his way back to the throne. “I am certain the entertainment will be acceptable.” He said, settling down. Sendak tossed Shiro his sword, Shiro just catching it by the hilt in his right hand. He wasn't sure if he was insulted or relieved Sendak wasn't fighting him with a sword, but at minimum all his strikes would be low. He'd also got to study how he fought, and knew to expect plenty of charges. So long as he timed his rolls right, he could get a good strike in early. He couldn't get cocky, but he had enough rage beneath the surface he needed to vent out. He gripped the sword tighter in his hand, drawing it up and smirking at Sendak. He'd no longer be underestimated.

 

“Begin!” Zarkon shouted, his voice echoing around the hall. As expected, Sendak lunged straight for Shiro, his prosthetic drawn back. Shiro steadied his nerve and held his ground, bending his knees ready to drop.  
 _Now.  
_ He dropped down, Sendak flying over his body. Shiro picked himself up and swung around, screeching as he brought the blade down, both hands gripping the hilt. It sang, but bounced off the armour on Sendak's leg.  
 _Shit._  
Shiro backed away as Sendak picked himself up, cracking his neck and flexing his claws. “I'm slightly pleased with you. However,” he turned his head, golden eyes flashing, “you better face me instead of ducking.”  
“Fuck your goading.” Shiro snapped, pointing the blade at Sendak, eyes dark. He should probably try going on the attack – just make sure he didn't hit the armour this time.

 

Shiro crouched low and ran forward, yelling out as he swung the sword towards Sendak's thighs. It clanged against the prosthetic. Shiro applied as much force as he could against the hand as he tried to push it away, but quickly worked out Sendak wasn't exerting much effort; he wasn't even facing him properly. He jumped back, slowly circling around the stationary figure. _Why won't he strike? What's he waiting for? Is he waiting until we tire?_ Shiro's thoughts raced. “You speak about me facing you, but where's _your_ honour?” It was his turn to goad him now, and it felt satisfying.

 

He only just dodged the prosthetic and the lit claws. They smashed into the floor where he was stood a few ticks beforehand, creating a substantial indent. He watched it retract backwards, Sendak glowering at him. _Fight him like Myzax, get in close!_ Shiro ran, watching as he turned to follow, calculating, until he launched his arm again for Shiro's exposed chest. He rolled to the side and back onto his knees, sprinting straight for Sendak with the sword raised. Sendak clenched his teeth as Shiro leapt at him, sword coming down to strike down the front of his chest. He was caught by the throat, letting out a strangled choke. Sendak bared his teeth, clenching tighter and raising Shiro above his head. He lifted his free hand to Sendak's arm, digging his nails in. He drew the sword up, glaring down into Sendak's eyes. “Fuck...you.” He choked, thrusting down at his face, hand unsteady.

 

“Master...the silly pet just-”  
“It did.” Zarkon watched Sendak slam the slave into the floor, the body bouncing, and ripped the blade from his grip before stabbing it through his sword hand. He kicked the shrieking slave to his side, and with the now retracted prosthetic, crouched to drag his claws slowly up his chest. The slave's shrieks grew even more pained as the stench of burned flesh reached Zarkon's nose. He wrinkled it, motioning for one of the driuds. “Bring me Haggar.”  
“Yes, Sire.” In a burst of dark energy, they vanished. Zarkon looked down to Haxus, who was on his feet. “At ease, Lieutenant.” Zarkon watched Sendak uncover his slashed eye, the skin more torn that he expected. He chuckled darkly; the slave was going back to the arena.

 

“You have trained him well, Commander.” Zarkon proclaimed. “It was a _lucky_ strike.” Sendak dismissed, clasping his hand to his face. “He lasted longer than I expected.” Zarkon motioned Sendak to bring the slave. The sword was tossed to the floor, and the slave was dragged by his stabbed hand back to the throne. He tried to hold back the sobs of pain as he nursed his broken ribs, but a few escaped. For every one, Sendak's grip tightened. “Bring him to his knees.” Zarkon watched as Sendak dragged him up by the hair, forcing him to look at the Emperor. “You assaulted your master.”  
“He _wanted_ me to attack.” Shiro panted.  
“The face is not allowed.” Zarkon asserted. “If you perceived yourself as the victor, you are mistaken.” He screwed his face up as Shiro spat blood to the floor, glowering up at him. “He needs more training. It is a shame he is stuck with a weak body-”  
“I have taken more _shit_ than you can imagine! My body is not _weak_.” Shiro spat again, temper flaring as he tried to rise from the floor. “Watch your tongue!” Sendak smacked Shiro across the face, leaving a bright red mark across his the cheek. He hacked more blood to the floor, wincing at the pain every time he coughed or even moved. “Tell me, _dreck,_ if your body is so strong, why do you writhe in pain? Sendak, let us do a test. Let's see how quickly it takes his arm to break.” Zarkon leaned forward, gaze piercing.

 

Shiro's yelp twisted and rose several octaves as Sendak grabbed his hand in the prosthetic, yanking it up. It felt he'd pull it out of the socket, but he wasn't that kind. He splayed Shiro's hand open, and glaring down through his one eye, snapped his finger backwards between two claws. Shiro's screams echoed around the room, tears streaming down his face.  
Snap.  
Snap.  
Snap.  
Snap.  
Shiro's throat burned and blood trickled over his lips. Through twitching eyes, he could only watch and scream more as Sendak crushed his forearm. He could hear the bones splintering and crack. “N-No! No more! _Please_!” His hoarse cries fell to a silent crowd as Sendak curled the claws around his elbow. “You claim your body is strong,” Sendak mused, squeezing, “but look at your dominant arm. It's destroyed.” He grinned as he mustered all the pressure he could and closed the metal fist.

 

The cracking of bone and Shiro's hoarse shriek hung in the room. His body was drenched in sweat and shuddering. He tried to move his right arm, mouth agape as nothing worked, the shattered bones sticking out through the leather guard. “No, no, no.” He breathed, trying to take the mangled mess in his left hand until Sendak grabbed that. “No!”  
“Emperor? Should we test the other one for good measure? Perhaps this is stronger?” Sendak's voice was mocking. “The first test was sufficient, but what say you, _dreck_? Do you think we should test your other arm?” Zarkon looked down his nose at Shiro, who bowed his head. “N-No. C-Clearly my body was,” he shuddered a breath out, “weaker. I-I'm not...strong.”  
“No. You are not.” Zarkon replied.

 

The main doors to the hall opened, and a robed figure strode in. “You wished to see me, My Lord?” Haggar's voice petered out as she stared at the scene in front of her. “What has happened?” She quickened her pace and took stock of the slave on the floor, bone poking out of his crushed arm, punctured by claw marks. She looked to Sendak to see the blood-stained claws, and noted his organic hand over his eye. “Do you require my prosthetic work?” She turned to Zarkon, who nodded in response. “For which one?”  
“Sendak will need a new eye. The slave there managed to catch him.” Zarkon offered a smile, while Sendak snorted. “The slave...well, Sendak? Do you think he deserves a prosthetic? I would enjoy seeing him in the arena, however if you have other plans, well, that is your business.” Haggar turned to Sendak, who in turn kicked the whimpering mess of the slave on the floor.

 

“I can forgive you for taking my eye. It was a fine strike and you did not hesitate for once. However, if you wish to partake in what makes you feel alive, and become strong enough to fight me properly, then I will allow you to take the arm. If you refuse, your use becomes limited.” Sendak crouched and pulled the slave up by the hair. “Speak your answer.” He noted the blood smeared over his face and the darkening bruise. The slave was certainly in pain. He cracked open his eyes slowly, the smallest glint of hatred and fight still left in there. “Make me stronger.” He bit out slowly. Sendak smirked as he let his face drop. “He accepts.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last chapter, a few notes:  
> \- Yastara is supposed to be unsettling and child-like in mannerism, but it's only mannerism. You'll find out a bit more later about them, but they're a long-lived race. I wanted to show a contrast since Shiro's not really met any other slaves yet.  
> \- Zarkon's chillness is indifference. A lot of this is him just going through the motions. Does the suffering of others cheer him up? Perhaps, but it's something to watch and mock. Also he reeeeeeaally hates Nadiva.  
> \- Sendak and Haxus's fight was effectively a 'lets let off some steam and talk about this shit', just with swords. It's cleared the air now :)
> 
> Chapter 13 is in writing, however I'm working tomorrow and busy all weekend. I'm hoping to watch season 2 of The Dragon Prince, at least next Tuesday with my friend, and the following weekend I'm away as well. So chapters will be out when I can get them out :) Next one will be a bit...nicer then this. I say that sparingly though. Ulaz is back though!


	13. Juxtaposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I've updated the tags but gonna just lay some things down.  
> The underage tag is added in, but Keith is 17. He is not, and I stress not, any younger. This is the only planned instance *currently* of having Shiro/Keith in this part of the fic, or at least this explicitly. When I get to part 2 of this series, then yes there will be Sheith.
> 
> If you've come to this fic in the hope of it having Adam/Shiro and/or Shiro/Keith then lemme let you know now, as in the tags, that these are hallucinations and *not* the real versions of these people. I'm tagging relationships for safety, but again, if you are here hoping for some nice and wholesome content, then I'm sorry to let you know but it's not. For the record, I support Adashi and Sheith.
> 
> Warnings aside, hello again! My weekend was quite busy, but I'm here for another chapter! Thank you for the comments and kudos - it's been great hearing from you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter - it's a bit of a mixed bag.

 

“Strap him down.” Shiro could easily confuse the woman's voice for calmness, if it wasn't for the medically cold detachment that hung around every word. He was held under each arm by the masked aliens and forced down. They would alternative between one holding, and one strapping him to the table roughly. He tried to struggle, but his bonds were too tight. “He will be here shortly, High Priestess, should we knock it out, or anaesthetise the area?” One of the masked figures turned to the woman. She inclined her head towards Shiro, before turning on her heel, “anaesthetise the area.” The High Priestess left through a nearby set of doors, likely to tend to Sendak.

 

Shiro's eyes snapped to the side when he saw one of the figures coming towards him, a large two-pronged needle in hand.  
“T-That's excessive!” He tried to pull his shoulder away as they silently bent down and stabbed the points into his skin. Shiro's raucous cry rang out, sweat rolling down his forehead. Why couldn't he just pass out? If there was a god, they were a cruel being. _Oh. Oh damn that is strong._ Shiro took a deep breath in through his nose and out through the mouth. His shoulder, it felt strange...tingly, heavy, like it wasn't there at all. He couldn't remember the feeling from last time, since he was slipping between consciousness, but if it was like that time Ulaz and the masked alien picked metal out of his wrist, that wouldn't be too bad. He rolled his head back to look at the rest of the room – the table being somewhat tilted – blinking.

 

He watched the masked alien return again with a strange device, like Ulaz's, but also a tiny bag. His body tensed, but the alien ignored him as it cut through the arm guard, then placed minuscule pieces of metal to his mangled arm. He shouldn't have looked down; the bile rose in Shiro's stomach.  
“Remain still.”  
He watched the alien scan his arm from a few different angles, until it seemed pleased. “What're you doing?”  
“Taking measurements for your new prosthetic.” With that, they affixed a drip into Shiro's left arm and moved to a terminal. His gaze followed, eyes widening in terror. Above him hung a menagerie of straight and circular saws, knives, possibly a cauterising laser? He had no idea. He tried to struggle again, but there was no give. He was wasting precious energy. _They'd use the laser, it has to cut through bone! Nice clean cut, we'll be fine, Takashi. There are positives, remember; patience yields focus. We get the arm, practice with it, get strong, join the rebels and get Matt and Sam back. Then back to Earth, show them we didn't die out in space. Oh shit, is this going to affect our pension? Did they know if we are MIA or KIA? Does it even count as in action?_ Shiro's eyes unfocussed as he lost himself to his asinine thoughts, a solace his mind needed right now.

 

-

 

“It will need to go in a tank afterwards to heal. As it's healer and your previous work within the department, the High Priestess has requested you for the removal.” The Druid passed Ulaz the mask, which he placed over his nose and mouth. “I see.”  
“It is a shame that you left us.” The Druid muttered, handing Ulaz a long pair of gloves. “We have many more planned experiments, and your expertise would be useful.”  
“As I have said, I am always happy to work on an advisory basis. I just missed the call of life on a cruiser.” Ulaz pulled the gloves on, offering the Druid a small nod. “Well you are based in Central for the foreseeable future, so perhaps you could advise more frequently?”  
“Perhaps. It would depend on whether the High Priestess would allow that.”  
“Of course. Please, follow me.” Ulaz followed the Druid from the preparation room along a dimly lit corridor, past open doors with rooms bathed in pink light, and closed ones that slightly muffled the sounds of screams or equipment in use. This was partially why he requested the move, but mostly due to Kolivan's mission posting.

 

He entered the room, his jaw tightening. “Remind me how _that_ happened again?”  
“At the Emperor's request, Commander Sendak crushed it.”  
“I see.” Ulaz strode up to Shiro, unable to apologise for what he was going to have to do. Shiro was staring blankly into space, mouth making small shapes but no noise escaped his lips. There was no awareness to his surroundings. “Slave.” Ulaz growled. Shiro's head bolted up as he blinked and licked his dry lips. “U-Ulaz?” His mouth tugged at the corners, and Ulaz's stomach lurched. “The area has been anaesthetised?” He turned away, hands behind his back as he strode to the terminal, tapping the display.

 

“Yes. We will leave you to your work, Technician.”  
“I would prefer that.” Ulaz muttered as the table moved, laying itself out flat. The large circular light above Shiro turned on, electing a sharp hiss from him. Ulaz brought up the camera feed from above, and pressing the display again, the circular saw above him whirred to life. Using a small joystick, he moved it towards Shiro, doing his best to ignore the panicked questions that became more and more fearful as the blade inched closer, his vitals spiking. “Ulaz! Please don't – don't do this! Please, please, please!” Something died in his chest as Shiro thrashed his face about, eyes wide and skin pallid and drenched in sweat. The terrified whines and screams grew in intensity, and as the saw pressed down on the flesh, Shiro made the most ear-splitting scream he'd heard in deca-phoebs. The blood sprayed everywhere as the saw cut its way through the muscle and its pitch shrieked higher as it started to cut through the bone. Shiro was screeching himself hoarse, and gods, Ulaz wished he would _stop_.

 

The saw made a metallic drone, and Ulaz knew the rest of the muscle had been severed. He hit the display button, and slowly pulled it away. His stomach churned in disgust as he ripped his eyes from the screen, ears pricking to the rapid beeping of Shiro's heart rate. He should have been knocked out fully for this; slave or not, the action was cruel, but now something he was complicit with. _“The mission is priority.”_ He could keep telling himself that, but as he picked up the mangled arm, he caught those strange grey eyes. They stared through him, twitching. His shuddering body was drenched in a cold sweat and the bruises over his ribs had finally started to come through. Ulaz gently rolled his head so it faced the ceiling, shielding his eyes from the light with his hand. He closed his eyelids, muttering, “please rest,” as he took the arm and placed it in a container for disposal. _The mission may be priority, but this is so, so wrong_.

 

-

 

It had taken a few quintants' for the cybernetic eye to be fitted due to the scarring over his brow and cheek. Haggar was keeping him in overnight, but other then that, he would be released soon. She'd inquired about the slave's arm for her research, and he'd granted her the limb – it wasn't as if the slave needed it any more. They'd spoken a little about upgrading his prosthetic, so she'd ran a scan to see what improvements could be made. All in all, the stint wasn't as terrible as it could've been.

 

“Commander Sendak, sir, may I enter?”  
Sendak's ears pricked, and he looked at the officer stood awkwardly in the doorway. Sendak nodded curtly, feeling he recognised the officer from somewhere, but not being able to place it. “My apologies, I - my name is Hepta – of the Korvek Clan – I was wondering, sir, if you needed anything?”  
“You are Ladnok's kin?” _So this was her awkward brother._  
“Yes, sir.” He stood at attention so tensely, it made Sendak smile a little. “Officer Hepta, are you on secondment?”  
“Light duties, sir, since I am still adjusting to my arms.”  
“How did you lose them?” Sendak motioned for the young officer to relax his position. “It was during a rebel attack, sir. I was trying to protect a comrade – there was an explosion, and-”  
“Enough. It hasn't been long, has it?”  
“No, sir. Only a few phoebs ago.” He flexed his fingers forlornly. “I worry I will never have the same level of control, that I will become useless to the Empire...Does it get easier?” There was a small crack in his voice that Sendak knew he should scold him for, however Hepta's reaction was too close to home.

 

“I lost my arm hundreds of deca-phoebs ago, and have gone through several since. It is difficult for the first deca-phoeb, but it will get better. For me,” he leaned back into the pillows, “my focus was on mastering the hand fast so I could keep fighting for the Empire. That, and I refuse to lose.” He grinned sheepishly, looking back to Hepta. “I need to become accustomed to this eye now.” He pointed, admittedly slightly askew, to his right eye. “Was that all, Officer Hepta?”  
“No, sir. I did legitimately come in here to ask if you needed anything.” Hepta stood back to attention. “However I'm grateful for your words. It means...a lot to me.”  
“In what way?”  
“My sis- Commander Ladnok speaks very highly of you, sir, and like you both, I aspire to become strong and command my own ship.” Hepta's attempt at confidence was...poor at best, but awkward or not Sendak felt his lips curl into a smile. “When you are confident with your arms, and completed your work here, contact my Lieutenant and arrange a meeting to see me. In answer to your earlier question, I'd like an update on how my slave's doing.”

 

“Your slave? The furless thing?”  
“Yes.” One eye narrowed, but it felt weird and stung doing it over the prosthetic. “Oh, the Druids told me to tell you not to frown so much right now. The remaining muscles and tendons are still bonding with the eye. Your slave...well...I'd need to check.”  
“Your tone does not fill me with confidence. What's happened.” Sendak leaned forward. Hepta stiffened, looking to the side. “I'm...I'm not at liberty to tell you, because it's classified-”  
“By _who?_ ” Sendak's growl was guttural.  
“The Emperor!” Hepta flinched away as Sendak cursed loudly. “Can you bring me the High Priestess?” He growled out slowly. Hepta nodded vigorously, gave a quick salute, and ran. Sendak flopped back into the pillows, pinching the bridge of his nose. It frustrated him when Zarkon did things like this; mostly because he ended up with slaves like Yastara left at the end of it, or they were dead. Neither of which he wanted for this one.

 

-

 

“Wakey, wakey, slavey-matey.”  
Shiro groaned, batting whatever was jabbing his cheek away as he rolled over. “I said _wakey._ ” He jolted awake, sucking in a deep breath as something smacked against his throat. _Wait a minute_. He pressed his fingers around his neck. _Where is it?_ His eyes flicked about. Shiro didn't recognise his surroundings at all; large crates sat around him, narrow walkways between them. A storage room? It was dimly lit. He leaned down to the floor on his right arm to catch his breath, but jerked away at the sound of metal. “W-What the?” He raised his arm, the light catching the edge. “What is this?” Shiro rasped, tentatively reaching his human hand out to brush his fingers over the metal.

 

“You wanted to become stronger, remember? Your master asked you nicely if you wanted a new one. Not like you _deserve_ one.” The speaker was petulant, and Shiro felt something jab him in the back. He growled, pushing himself around to see something move out of sight. “Who the _fuck_ are you?”  
“Such nasty comments from a silly little pet. Yastara will need to punish you.”  
“Well stop hiding then and come out!” Shiro stood up but stumbled to the right. “Shit!” He tried to grab at the side of the crate, but ended up putting his right elbow through it instead. Using his left hand, he yanked himself out of the metal, frowning at his arm. That should of hurt, but there was _nothing_. He tried to flex the fingers, but all he ended up doing was rotate the arm.

 

“You've been healing all nicely in the tank, but your arm is still fixing itself. Why do you think Yastara has you here now?”  
“What do you even want with me?”  
“Silly pet doesn't listen! Yastara is going to punish you! Good pets don't harm their masters, or speak naughty in front of the Emperor.” He felt a heavy weight land on top of his shoulders and he crumpled to the floor. Fingers laced into his hair and yanked it upwards, a pair of yellow eyes blinked at him. “To be good you need to be relaxed, know your place, yes?”  
“My place isn't under you!”  
“Mmm, it is!” Yastara poked Shiro's nose, before his body jerked as he felt something grind between his ass cheeks, pressing at the tight fabric. “See, silly pet, you don't have your collar! Yastara does, so you can't hurt Yastara. If you did, then Emperor Zarkon would kill you!” They scrambled off Shiro and flipped him over, grinning madly down as they settled over his hips, tail poised ready to strike.

 

“Do you want to know why the Emperor keeps Yastara?” Yastara cooed, rubbing their tail again Shiro's cheek. Shiro clenched his teeth tight. Yastara's face twisted. “The Emperor likes Yastara bestest because Yastara can do _this_.” The thin tail wrapped itself around Shiro's neck, constricting his airway. As he opened his mouth, the bulbous end forced its' way inside. Shiro's shouts of protest were muffled as he grabbed at the tail around his neck, but it just coiled tighter. He scowled up at Yastara, but his eyes drew wide as he felt the end in his mouth unfurl. It pushed against the roof of his mouth and tongue, until something hot secreted down his throat. Shiro coughed, rolling his head to the side as the tail relaxed around his throat. It withdrew with a wet 'pop', and through heavy eyes he saw the end fanned out like flower petals, a stamen-like piece inside.

 

“It should start soon.” Yastara giggled as they stood over Shiro, head cocked to the side. “See, the Emperor likes to think of the old Empress. Yastara can do that for him.”  
“What do you mean?” Shiro asked between coughs. “You are a very stupid pet. It means Yastara can make people see things that aren't true!” They paced around Shiro's body, tail swaying gently. “You're fucked up.” Shiro growled, trying to push himself onto his knees. “Yastara doesn't think so. Ohhh, hurry up!” They whined, pushing Shiro back down to the floor with their foot. “You're not even that big!”  
“Fuck _off!”_ Shiro spat.

 

“Don't talk to me like that, Takashi.”  
Shiro blinked. “A-Adam?”  
“Don't act so stupid. Have you really forgotten me that quickly?” Adam bit. Shiro turned his head around to see him glare down at him. “You look awful.” Adam crouched down beside Shiro, taking his chin in his hand. “Well, you wanted to leave.”  
“I wanted to pursue my dreams before I _died.”_ Shiro pushed Adam backwards, his body knocking against one of the crates. He grunted as he pushed himself back up. “Don't you ever lash out at me!” He shouted, pushing himself forward and forcing Shiro back down to the cold floor. Grey met hazel eyes, Adam's warm and minty breath against his face. “What the hell is going on with you?” Adam snapped, settling on top of his hips. “This is all bullshit! You're not real!” Shiro snarled as his lips pulled back.

 

Adam's eyes closed and he exhaled. He drew his hand up and smacked Shiro across the face. _That fucking stung_. “I'm not real, huh? Fine. I guess if I'm not real then this isn't happening.” He punched Shiro's gut. He cried out, snarling up at Adam as he grabbed at his shoulder. “I'm not real, remember?” Adam laughed as he fiddled with the under suit, ripping the fabric away from the catches. “So none of this matters. Like _I_ didn't. The only person who ever mattered to you was that brat you picked up.” Adam roughly grabbed Shiro's cock, squeezing it tightly as he thumbed the tip, pressing his nail in. “I was your fiancé, but do you even know how I felt when all you would do was talk about the brat?” Adam grit his teeth together as yanked Shiro's cock. “Keith this, Keith that.” He sneered, “you just wouldn't stop. Oh, and taking him to the pre-launch? You think I didn't know? That was a fucking kick in the teeth. You said you weren't close, but invited him over me!” His laugh was cold.  
“We weren't doing anything!”  
“Liar!” Adam struck his gut again.

 

“I don't even know why I'm doing this – letting you get off. Reckon I should just think about myself, just like you did?” Adam cocked his head to the side, brown hair falling in front of his face. “Don't you _fucking_ dare.” Shiro still couldn't work his right arm – it felt asleep. “Well you always liked giving it rough, and again, I suppose if none of this is real then what does it matter, Takashi? It's not like you're even trying to stop me.” He pulled Shiro's legs over his shoulder, ignoring the kicks of protests as he ripped the fabric between his thighs, exposing his ass. He leaned forwards, pinching Shiro's nose together and forcing his fingers into his mouth. Shiro bit down hard, earning a hiss from Adam. He ripped them from his mouth and pushed them against Shiro's hole. “You're fucking loose. Barely ever let me fuck you, but who've you been whoring yourself to? Half the Garrison?”  
“N-No!”  
“Still fucked enough of them though, didn't you?”  
“I slept with four people when I was single; you know that.”  
“Did you let Keith fuck you?”  
“No!” Shiro's voice went higher when Adam shoved another finger in, thrusting the two roughly in there. He cried out in pain, trying to push himself away.

 

“Oh, so this hurts does it? Thought it wasn't real?” Adam spat as he grabbed his cheeks. “You're not...real.” Shiro bit out through the pain, trying to tug Adam's hand away from his face. Those once-loving eyes grew cold, and he thrust two dry fingers into his ass. Shiro cried out, digging his nails into his wrist, eyes twitching through the pain as he pressed his fingers under his ear, Shiro's jaw stinging. “You can keep saying I'm not real, but there's no one else here; just us.” Adam seethed, taking his hand from Shiro's hole to unzip his fly. He pressed the tip against Shiro's entrance and with a sharp thrust, shoved himself in deep. “I really didn't want to fuck you like this, Takashi, but you left me with no choice. It could have been just like before, but you had to be stubborn, didn't you?” He pulled back and thrust in hard again; a strangled scream erupting from Shiro's mouth.

 

-

 

“I was busy, Commander.” Haggar's voice cut the silent air as she stormed into the room. Sendak lifted himself from the bed, placing his feet on the floor. “I understand, but I need to know; why has the Emperor requested my slave?” He held his tongue, wanting to just snarl like he normally would. Haggar narrowed her eyes as she observed him from under her hood. “He wished to educate your slave-”  
“But surely, and I mean no disrespect, he should have asked?” Sendak met her gaze. She looked down, eyes narrowed. “The request said that you had consented.”  
“I was not consulted.”  
“You call the Emperor a liar?” Her voice rose and she took a step towards Sendak. “No! I would never call our Emperor a liar. I swear, and you can check my mind to confirm, I have not been consulted.” He straightened his back and closed his eye. “Believe me, I have nothing to hide.” There was a pause, then soft footsteps, as she approached. Fingers brushed against his fur and his eyes shot open, a strangled growl escaping through his lips, as she entered his mind.

 

“You are...correct. I do not understand – the request was sent from the Emperor himself.” Haggar paced away.  
“Who came to collect him?”  
“It was one of the concubines.”  
“Which one?” Sendak narrowed his eyes, feeling the sting of the muscles over the right again. She was silent. “The bronze-skinned one with the tail. The one that applies hallucinogenic techniques.” They both paused. After a few moments, Haggar spoke again; “I was told they came alone.”  
“The Emperor never sends his concubines here – it would be guards.”  
“Yes...I will contact the Emperor. You will remain here.” She turned and pushed him gently by the chest to remain. “I am sorry, High Priestess, but I must be responsible for my own slave.” Sendak pushed himself up from the bed. “Your prosthetic is still recharging.”  
“That's fine. I have my communicator – I will contact Commander Prorok.” Sendak pulled his armour over the body suit, a dark gleam in his eye. “Do you know how long ago he was taken?”  
“Roughly two vargas ago. I was in my lab at the time.” Haggar watched him leave and clicked her tongue in frustration. She didn't want either of her possible test subjects dead, and knowing the Emperor and Sendak, one would be.

 

-

 

“I'm not sucking your dick!” Shiro rasped, pushing Adam's abdomen away as best he could. “It's not a _real_ dick though, is it?” Adam smacked Shiro's face again and pressed the bloody head against his lips, grinding his hips against them and gripping Shiro's hair tightly. “I bet if it was Keith you'd have your mouth wide open – or Matt.” Shiro growled in his throat in response, glaring hard up at this man who was not Adam. He closed his eyes, hissing out at the additional slaps. “Your silence speaks volumes. Maybe you already did that with both of them. Probably Sam as well. Oh, was it a Holt sandwich-”

 

Shiro punched Adam in the face. He stumbled backwards and Shiro pulled himself to his feet, lips curled back in a feral look. “Don't. You. _Dare_.”  
Adam's lips curled as he wiped the blood away. “Is that how you got on the Kerberos mission? Bent over and begged Sam? Blew him under the desk like you did me?”  
“You know nothing _._ ” Shiro squared his shoulders as he advanced on Adam, grabbing him by the scruff on his uniform. “I know you aren't real – just a figment of my imagination – and everything you say is based on my perceptions; real or fictitious.” Shiro slowly raised the prosthetic, trying to grip Adam's wrist. With his left hand, he dropped the uniform and grabbed his throat. “So what I do to you doesn't matter.”

 

Adam wheezed out a laugh, his mouth unnaturally wide and eyes glistening with tears. “Then do what you want. Show me, Takashi Shirogane, what a monster you are.” His lips curled and Shiro screamed at him, throwing him against the crates. He rounded on Adam, grabbing him by the leg and yanking it over his shoulder. “You think assaulting me is going to work? I've put up with enough of that in the last two phoebs,” Shiro growled as he tugged the belt off and mustered enough movement to drop his prosthetic over Adam's chest. He kicked his feet out, but Shiro applied all the weight he could as he threw it to the side and pulled the trousers down just past his ass. The hot come ran down the inside of his thighs as he shifted, pressing himself dry against Adam's entrance. “At least I can vent some stress of my own out.” Shiro snarled pushing himself in. It hurt both of them. Shiro shuddered out a low growl as he pushed inside, the walls tight were uninviting as he clamped his teeth down around Adam's collarbone. The scream that came out of Adam's lips was huskier. Shiro frowned as he forced his teeth down harder, thrusting himself back in and out in a frenzied manner. If this caricature of his ex-fiancé was going to act out of character, then so was he. Adam _never_ accused him of anything like what this one had – he'd never speak so disparagingly against the Holts or Keith like that; especially Keith.

 

“S-Shiro! S-Stop, you're h-hurting me!”  
_No. No, it's not him. Don't look up._  
He looked up.  
A wide pair of amethyst eyes stared back and the body beneath him shook. “K-Keith?” Shiro felt himself come over in a cold sweat. His eyes flicked down to the small puncture marks, blood swelling to the surface against the pale skin. “Why did you...? You only had to ask-”  
“No!” Shiro pulled him up into his arms, tears threatening to fall. “You shouldn't be here.” He delicately licked at Keith's neck, and pressed the side of his face into the collarbone. He felt arms curl around his neck, a soft grunt as Keith moved above him. “I am, Shiro. Then you...did this. Did I do something wrong?”  
“No. You did nothing wrong.”  
“So why are you hurting me?”  
“I-” Shiro bit his lips and pulled away to look at Keith. “I...thought you were someone else – someone who hurt me.” He lied. _Why are you lying? It's not him!_

 

Keith paused, staring down into his lap. “Who hurt you?”  
“It doesn't matter-”  
“It matters to me! Lemme help you feel better.” Keith took Shiro's face in his hands and pressed their lips together, forcing his tongue inside Shiro's mouth. He was taken aback by Keith's...passion as he let him explore. His kiss was sloppy, but it made something warm stir in his chest, something he'd not felt in what felt like forever. _He's not real – stop letting this carry on._ Shiro let out a breathy moan as Keith ran his hands over the tight material, fingers pinching his nipples. _Why are you doing this to yourself? It's not him, he's not in space with us. It's impossible._ Just let me enjoy someone being delicate with me, okay? His brain didn't have a comeback, and he tuned out the rest of his thoughts to focus on what was in front of him. He brought his knees up to support Keith's rear, and steadied his hip with one hand as he traced small circles into the skin.

 

“What happened to this?” Keith picked up the limp arm beside him, letting it drop with a thud to the floor. “It doesn't matter.” Shiro offered a small smile as he felt Keith lift himself slowly off Shiro's cock. “I think it'd be better if it hurt less.” Keith muttered, hot breath against the head. He carefully licked the top but grimaced. “Keith, it's bloody. Don't do that.”  
“Fine.” Keith grinned up at Shiro and spat into his hands, rubbing them both up and down the shaft. Shiro let his head roll to the side, eyes fluttering closed and taking a deep breath as he just enjoyed the hands working him. His right arm twitched, and he tried to focus on raising it. Slowly, he felt it hover a bit from the floor, before it dropped. He moaned low as he felt teeth graze against his cock, and gazed down at the mess of Keith's dark hair bobbing up and down. Shiro's fingers were just out of reach of the dark locks, and he whined quietly when Keith glanced up at him, eyes wide and needy.

 

“Shit.” Shiro swore as Keith pulled away. He spat into his hand and spread himself for Shiro, teasing his own entrance with his fingers. “Please...let me help you feel better.” He took Shiro's cock and slowly eased himself down, a needy moan catching in his throat. Shiro hissed as he watched Keith settle – the view was _good_. “Keith.” He breathed, brushing his fingertips over the soft skin. The body above him shivered as it set an agonisingly gentle pace, Keith's hips rolling back and forth.

 

-

 

“Incompetent dreck!” Zarkon roared, grabbing Prorok around the throat and drawing him in. “What do you _mean_ you cannot locate them?”  
Prorok's voice cracked, the noise garbled. Zarkon clicked his tongue and threw him to the ground, his fists clenched tight as he glared at the display. “Yastara's collar has a tracking device. Find it!”  
“There's...a chance, My Lord, that they are somewhere with interference?”  
“Are you asking me a question or making a statement?” Zarkon pressed his heel into Prorok's hand, grinding his foot down and eliciting a hiss from the commander under him. “Where on the ship could provide that much interference?” Zarkon stormed over to the display.

 

“There's the area around the High Priestess's laboratories and the Solar Barrier control room, Emperor.”  
Zarkon stared at the map of his Command ship, judging the distance. “Bring up the radius of effect for both areas, Commander Mar.”  
“Understood.” Mar hammered his fingers against the console, narrowing his eyes as the display changed. “Would you like me to plot in where they could be within three vargas?”  
“Do it.” Zarkon watched the screen flash again, possible areas now highlighted in green. He surveyed the map, trying to think where that little dreck would hide. It would be somewhere quiet. “Sendak, we will search _there_.” Zarkon pointed to Level 97 – known as a storage level of sorts. “Commander Mar and _you_ ,” He spat as he regarded Prorok, “deploy the guards and sentries to the other areas and check the footage. We will find them.” With a swish of his long cape, Zarkon strode from the room, Sendak quietly following behind him, keeping pace with the Emperor. “We will find them, Sendak, and when I find Yastara, it is as good as _dead_.”

 

-

 

Keith was snuggled against his chest, placing gentle kisses over the scars and burns. He laced his leg between Shiro's thighs, who pliantly moved them. “Thank you,” Shiro panted, scrubbing his hand over his face. “What're you thanking me for?” Keith shifted his knee to gently press against Shiro's tender groin. He chuckled, planting kisses down his body.  
“It felt...really good.”  
“Do you want to feel good again?” Shiro twitched under Keith's hand around his cock. “N-No. I'm way too tired.” Keith's grip tightened. “You don't want me to continue? You liked this.”  
“I did – it was great. I just...can't again.”  
“But why?” In Shiro's heart he knew none of this was real but that _voice_ broke him. He grit his teeth, ignoring the hypersensitivity, “because I've taken advantage. Keith, stop it.” He tugged at his arm, but Keith pushed it away. He kneeled over Shiro's stomach, the tiniest flash of yellow there for a split second.

 

“No! You have to keep feeling good. I'm _here_ to please you unconditionally. You should please me just the same!” His voice was higher, not so husky. Shiro frowned at him – sure Keith could be stubborn but...something dark whipped behind Keith's back. “What's that?” Shiro asked cautiously. He focused hard on both arms to push himself up.  
“What's what?”  
“There's something behind you.”  
“It's nothing. I don't know what you're on about, Shiro.” Keith cupped his face, planting another kiss on his lips. “N-No, I saw something.” Shiro caught him around the neck with his left arm and rolled the two of them over, so he was staring down into those strange eyes again. He pushed himself up onto his haunches and rose to his feet, the muscles burning as he rose. “Stop being so paranoid.” Keith huffed, a half-smile on his face as he pushed himself up, dark hair falling in front of his eyes.

 

Shiro put his left arm out to steady himself. This new one was weighty and pulled against the skin, so he felt off-balance. He squinted around the dimly lit room, ignoring the trashed boxes. “See? Nothing.” He heard Keith's voice but refused to look at him. He rubbed his eyes, groaning at the pounding ache behind them that had suddenly come on. He carefully peered down the small walkways, before looking down at Keith. Shiro grit his teeth and backed away up against the crates, raising his left arm. _Don't act so surprised. You knew it wasn't him to begin with. Look at you, hurting yourself again. What a fucking embarrassment. Congrats, by the way, for fucking a fake version of your friend. Bet you feel real proud of yourself._

 

“What's wrong, Shiro? Why are you looking at me like that?” He cocked his head to the side.  
“You're not Keith.” Shiro needed to make some distance.  
“Of course I am. Who else have you been fucking and calling for?”  
“No. You look like him, sound like him, but you're not him. You weren't Adam, either.” Shiro tensed his body, trying to figure out how he'd fight with just one arm. Keith glared at him, but sighed. He closed his eyes and picked himself up from the floor, dusting down his open jacket. “Yastara really wished you had stayed good, but Yastara is sadly mistaken.” Yellow slits glowered at him as they took a step forward. “Understand, dreck, that all the words and the actions are of your creation. Yastara's movements are the only thing your body will feel.”  
“But you just spoke as Keith!” Shiro snapped. “No, that was the last of the hallucinogenics. Yastara has been quiet – had to cover your mouth a few times.” They giggled, then mimicked Shiro's moans back at him, arching their back. “Oh, Keith, that feels so good-”

 

Yastara's body hit the crates and fell to the floor in a heap. They blinked up in a daze, before squealing as Shiro came for them, eyes dark and wild as he brought his fist down. Yastara leapt over crates and dove around corners, whereas Shiro pushed his way through the paths. A tail. He stamped just before the bulbous end, and a loud screech tore through his head. Yastara bolted, Shiro grabbing the tail with his left hand and getting dragged along on his stomach. Yastara tried to leap up but with the added weight, they didn't clear it. The two fell to the ground, Shiro cursing as he pulled the tail hard. “Bad pet! Zarkon'll have your head.”  
“You think I _care_?” Shiro sneered, bringing his fist down against Yastara's cheek. A crack. They howled out, grabbing their jaw and looking at Shiro through teary eyes.

 

Shiro felt something trail over the thin fabric on his right shoulder. He looked down to see the tail open; it sprayed liquid in his eyes. He reeled back yelping and shielded his face as he heard feet scamper away. He rapidly blinked and rubbed his eyes; there was enough vision to see where he was going. He charged forward, body catching the sides of crates, but he pushed on through the pain. Yastara reached the door, fishing for something in a small pouch attached to their hip. They kept looking back at Shiro, before pushing something against the panel. The door opened and they scurried out.

 

He yelled, pushing his body faster as the door went to close. _You need to make it._ The bright light on the other side was diminishing. There was almost no room. He screamed, eyes closing as he thrust his right arm forward. The sound of metal creaking made Shiro open his eyes. He blinked. His arm...had worked? He focussed hard as he tried to flex it, and slowly he managed to push the thin door back. He stumbled through it quickly, checking in both directions for the slave. _There_.

 

“How did you...?” Yastara blinked, drawing their body close together as they backed away slowly. “My arm.” Shiro raised it, watching the light reflect off the silver metal. He smiled, but his gaze hardened as it trailed back to Yastara. His head flashed with pain, and for a split second Yastara took the form of Keith. He clenched the metal fist tightly and slowly moved forward. “You're trying to trick me again? Take a form I won't harm? I _know_ it's not him!” Shiro rushed Yastara, bringing his fist up. He squinted away as it took on a violet glow, and it connected with Yastara's chest.

 

Shiro blinked his vision back, looking up slowly. His stomach dropped; it wasn't Yastara. “N-No.” He tried to pull his fist away but it was stuck. _On what? What's...oh._ The orange fabric was torn and singed; red bleeding through the cotton. “Keith? No. No.” Shiro's mutters became more and more panicked as he tried to pull his arm out, but it had locked itself into place. Dark eyes met his, blood trickling from his mouth, “i-it hurts, S-Shiro. Wh-why d-do you h-hurt me?” The whispered words lanced through Shiro's heart. He dropped to the floor, the body falling down into him. It inched further down his arm; the breathing becoming shallow in Shiro's ear. “I-I...don't wanna g-go.” It was barely audible.

 

-

 

“You're using the bayard?” Sendak queried as the two ran down the corridor. “I think this warrants it. I...apologise for my slave's behaviour. I gave it too much freedom, clearly.” Zarkon's voice was like thunder as they rounded a corner, his Emperor skidding to a halt. Sendak almost ran right into the back of him, but stopped in time. “Why did we-” He snarled, taking a step forward. “Slave? _What have you done_?” He stalked over, grabbing his slave by the hair and pulling him backwards. He yelled out and toppled back, the body coming down on top of him. Sendak swore. “He's punched right through your slave.”  
“So he did.” Zarkon approached slowly, pulling the body up by the hair. He tossed the limp form down the hallway. He brought the bayard up and with a burst of light it transformed into a large cannon. Sendak scooped his slave up under his arm, and watched as Zarkon fired.

 

The light blinded Shiro. Even with closing his eyes, he could still see it through his eyelids. As the light dissipated, he cautiously cracked an eye open. The floor and walls smouldered, but there was nothing...material left. “Your slave saved me a headache.” The cannon vanished as Zarkon turned; a strange black and white curved object in his hand. Zarkon tilted Shiro's face up, studying him like he was weird new food. “His collar isn't on.”  
“It's not?” He could feel Sendak's grip tense around his waist. “It's likely back in Haggar's lab. I will send a guard to return it to your quarters.” Zarkon placed his arms behind his back, moving towards the door Shiro had escaped through. “Was this were Yastara brought you, slave?”  
“Yes, Sire.” He swallowed, hoping Sendak wouldn't smack him for speaking out of turn later. He just wanted to sleep – forget today ever happened. “I see.” Zarkon pulled the door, straightening it out. “How was your arm?”  
“It...is hard to manage. I-I can't control it right.”  
“You won't yet. Sendak, I will give you a phoeb to get him used to his arm, then you will have him training. Understand?”  
“Yes, Sire.” He bowed, Shiro still under his arm.  
“On a final note; your slave still killed mine. I will require compensation.” Zarkon stepped towards Sendak until their eyes met. “It won't be now, but I will contact you in due course. Now go, take him back to your quarters. I will inform Haggar.”

 

-

 

Sendak dropped Shiro carefully on to the floor, stretching out his shoulder. “You're heavier than you look.” He muttered as he headed into the depths of his home. Shiro sat on the cold tiles, eyes drifting in and out of focus. The violet light sparkled like diamonds against the floor, and he stretched out his hand to take them. They vanished. No, there. He grabbed again at nothing. He let out a frustrated whine as he followed the trail, stopping before he fell into the strange bright liquid in the centre of the atrium. He blinked down at his milky reflection. What was he even doing? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth.

 

Keith's pained reflection stared back up at him; eyes dark and blood trickling from his lips. _“Shiro.”_  
“No!” He screamed, punching the water with his human hand. He threw himself to the floor, the metal hand clattering against the tiles underneath. He cracked open an eye to see the hand stained red.  
“ _I-I...don't wanna g-go.”  
_He screamed again, curling up into a ball as he dug his nails into his scalp. He wasn't here, it wasn't Keith. It wasn't _possible_.

 

Shiro didn't register Sendak had returned to the room until he was lifted from the cold ground. “I do not know why you scream, but you need rest.” His voice was quiet as he pressed his hand lightly over Shiro's eyes. He felt them wander through the hallways until he was dropped into soft blankets, and a weight settled next to him, bringing him in close. “Close your eyes. We have both been lucky today the Emperor spared us.” Sendak eased his fingers along the suit catches and undone them. Shiro's body stiffened as he felt Sendak shift and roll the material down over his shoulders. He caught the orange-red and golden eye, mouth open as if he was about to protest. “I don't want your body right now. My concern is for your welfare. Now stop being difficult.” He pulled the fabric from Shiro's prosthetic and slowly, Shiro eased himself out.

 

Sendak bundled the under suit into a ball and tossed it to the ground. He went to move away from the bed but felt something latch on. “I...don't want to be alone right now.” The slave muttered into the blankets. Sendak tilted his head up, frowning at the watery marks along his cheeks. “Are you crying?”  
“I saw my friend dying. I killed him.” The voice was monotone and small.  
“What you saw was fake. You killed Yastara, rightly.”  
“But-”  
“It was Yastara. You are one of three Earthlings in space. That is all.” His slave curled into his arm regardless, burying his head into the side of Sendak's thigh. With an exasperated sigh, he leaned back and slowly petted the human's hair as he sniffed and his voice cracked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to another time skip by the way. Not a big one, just another few weeks or so. Right now we're just over 2 months into Shiro's time with the Galra.
> 
> Also fun Ulaz is back next chapter, and Shiro gets to learn how to use his prosthetic a bit.
> 
> If any of you are interested, I've had surgery on my eye muscles before, so I'm writing from experience from the eye pain there (I slept for a week and oh lorrrdy it hurt, but the Galra are made of tougher things and have quintessence). Also's Sendak's eye is the same one as mine so that's even more fun. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I'll see you all again for chapter 14!


	14. Rehabilitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos, and hello to the new readers who've started this fic! I'm very happy you've decided to come along for the ride!
> 
> I think I mentioned last chapter this one would be pretty relaxed by comparison, and though there's some bits that might be a bit racy, it's primarily just call-backs. Arguably a good chapter end for once.
> 
> I'm away this weekend so writing won't happen until Sunday evening, and next week I have overtime a bit. I have started chapter 15 though :)

****As soon as the slave had fallen asleep, Sendak pulled himself up. He padded slowly into the bathroom and fished through the cupboards looking for a small bowl. He was surprised the slave had managed to manipulate his arm so early. It was extraordinary but terrifying at the same time; especially since it was 'quick' by Galra standards with how he took to his prosthetic. He was also surprised Haggar had designed a weaponised one for his slave. What was her rationale? He pondered possible reasoning as he ran water into the bowl and fetched some cloths. He glimpsed at himself in the mirror, taking stock of his face. He ran his fingers slowly across the scarring, wincing and grumbling in pain because he'd winced. Yes; the slave was certainly exceptional as he studied the glowing eye that looked back at him.

 

He wandered back to the bedroom and glanced over the body. Credit where credit was due, he was hardy in nature. It was a shame he was not born a Galra; he'd be a fine warrior and one Sendak would look at mentoring. He mentally scolded himself as he bent down and lifted the arm. He shouldn't be feeling such sentiments towards a lower life form. Yet, as he cleaned the smooth metal and watched the light glitter off the water droplets, he felt a strange sense of pride for his slave he wasn't used to feeling. “You are a strange creature,” he muttered, rustling his limp hair. The slave stirred, heavy eyes slowly blinking open, before closing again. “Rest.” He whispered as he eased the fingers apart and cleaned the gore away.

 

He decided it best not to clean the body yet. He didn't want to wake his slave, primarily because he didn't have control over activating the arm yet. He needed to get an inhibitor and quickly – he was not going to let the slave cause him or itself damage. Sendak placed the bowl on the table and made his way to the atrium, picking up his communicator and settling on one of the sofas. He held it close, realising he couldn't read anything from his usual distance, the backs of his eyes sore and heavy. It was probably until his new cybernetic settled. Flicking through his contact list, he selected Ulaz's profile and placed it down as the call went through.

 

“Commander? Can I help you?”  
“I will require your presence at my quarters on Central Command early in the morning. I presume you have the discharge notes from the High Priestess?”  
“I do. I also have the slave's – is this what the call is about?”  
“Both.” There was a pause. “Can you also bring an inhibitor.”  
“I can. Why do you need one so early?”  
“He's activated it and killed one of the Emperor's concubines.”  
“By the gods! How beat up is he?”  
“Not as much as I was expecting. The Emperor was quite pleased he didn't have to kill his concubine himself.”  
“In what way?”  
“They claimed to be the Emperor and took my slave away. We presume to kill him.”  
“You should've kept a better eye on him. Don't tell me, he's been raped, again?”  
“I noticed stains between his thighs.” Sendak pursed his lips as Ulaz swore in frustration. “It's down to the lack of brain cells between the officers and Druids.” Sendak snapped back. “Are you there now?”  
“Yes. I have his collar as well.”  
“Bring it with you tomorrow.”  
“I will. I'll prepare now and be up early. Please be awake.”  
“I'm sure I will be.” Sendak ended the call and leaned back, closing his eyes to offset the pain; like someone was stabbing the back of them with white-hot pokers.

 

-

 

Shiro stirred, nuzzling his head into the warm and fluffy blanket. He hummed in happiness, pushing his hands through the thick fur.  
“I didn't realise I had adopted a kit.”  
Shiro rolled backwards and he brought his left hand up defensively, glaring at Sendak. “What did you do? Why am I naked?”  
“Gods, you are too _loud_ in the morning.” Sendak groaned, taking his mug from the side and sipping the contents. “I made you one.” He pointed to another cup and flicked through the small tablet he held in his Galran hand.

 

“What're you reading?”  
“Apparently I'm not going to get a thank you.” He dropped the tablet into his lap and glared at Shiro. “Thanks.” Shiro growled out, noting that Sendak was actually wearing something. “Good enough. It's a report regarding rebel activity. I need to read it for my meeting later.”  
“Is that with the Emperor?”  
“Yes.” Sendak pulled Shiro into his lap and handed him the mug. “It should be cool by now.”  
“Is it tea?”  
“Leaf water.” Sendak picked up the tablet again and flicked down, yawning and exposing his sharp teeth. Shiro stared at the mug, swirling it in his hand, before taking a small sip. Sendak kept him steady on his lap, the thick fur mussed up where he'd been nuzzling and kneading it earlier, thinking it was a blanket. “We'll shower shortly.”  
“Okay.” Shiro closed his eyes as he enjoyed the warmth in his throat.

 

-

 

“Is there nothing you can put him in?” Ulaz looked to Sendak as Shiro sat curled up on the couch in a towel. “Everything I own is too big for him.” Sendak replied. “I can pick something up on my way back.”  
“How long will you be?”  
“Not sure. A good few vargas.”  
“He's eaten?”  
“Of course.” Sendak smoothed the fur along the back of his neck and looked down at the two. “I need to leave to pick up my prosthetic from Haggar. There will be no visitors today.” He checked his armour again and left the two of them together.

 

Ulaz settled next to Shiro on the sofa. He rested his forearms over his thighs and stared at the floor. “I need to apologise for the arm; I'm sorry.” He muttered, head hung low. Shiro looked away in silence, tracing his left hand over the metal. “What's done is done.”  
“Shiro, you don't have to bottle it up-”  
“I do.” His voice was cold as he chewed his nails. The silence descended around them, Ulaz staring at the floor. “They should have anaesthetised you completely for it.”  
“I didn't feel anything.”  
“You were screaming.”  
“I don't remember fully what I was doing.”  
“I'm sorry-”  
“It's done. I've got this hunk of metal now.” Shiro rolled his right shoulder. “Better get used to it.”

 

“So what happened with Yastara?”  
“Oh, you know, smacked about, raped, forced to see my ex-fiancé and one of my closest friends.” Shiro laughed, rolling his head to look at Ulaz. “Keep seeing his face and hearing him ask why I hurt him as he died on my arm.”  
“You know they weren't real?”  
“It _felt_ real. There's only so much I can lie to myself until even I don't know what's reality any more.” Ulaz caught the gaze; hollow and holding practised military coldness. He rose from the sofa and paced over to the small bag he had with him, pulling out his scanner. “Let's get you checked over.” He murmured.

 

It had been a varga or thereabouts since Ulaz had left. The conversation was curt from Shiro's side. He didn't want to be around anyone right now, just with his thoughts. He settled by the pool in the atrium and took a deep breath. For the first time in deca-phoebs, he was going to try meditating again. It might help him focus on his arm; try and work out how to make it work. Yester-quintant it seemed to be impulsive emotions and spurred on by pure rage, but he couldn't let himself activate it only through that. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft bubbling of the water. He took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth, trying to narrow his focus in on his shoulder and down into the arm.

 

Adam's hollow laugh shot through his head. His eyes snapped open and he grasped his hand to his mouth, eyes wide. _No, focus. It wasn't real_. There was some fact in what Adam said. _But he wouldn't have done that_. Wouldn't he? You don't remember that look? _It was break-up sex and you were both drunk, he was hopeful he could._ He knew my opinion on him doing it. _Not like you were fucking him to get him off though, was it?_ I suppose. _Did it even mean anything?_ Shiro grit his teeth and shook his head, growling. He needed to focus. He resettled into his position and steadied his breathing again, trying to feel out the connection between the flesh and metal.

 

For vargas he sat there trying to separate out the different sensations. Until the middle of the bicep, it felt warm, but then he hit the cold wall of metal. He flopped down on the floor behind him, rolling his right shoulder around and around. He needed to get it back to an action he didn't need to think about, but this was a good enough start. There was the possibility Sendak might be pleased, but it would depend on how he was after his meeting. He looked up as he heard the click of the door, and levered himself over to his right and sat on his knees, hand placed on the floor to help him. _Oh gods my legs ache_.

 

“I must say, that is quite a sight to walk in to.” Sendak purred from the doorway as he placed a small bag down. Shiro arched his eyebrow and looked down at himself. He'd tied the towel, albeit loosely, around his hips. Everything above the belt, however, was on display and being on his knees? Well, it's what the Commander liked. “Well don't get too used to it.”  
“I could just not let you wear clothes.”  
“That's true.”  
“How's your arm?” Sendak settled down on one of the sofas as he unclipped his armour, watching Shiro. “Well, I can rotate the shoulder if I focus hard enough.”  
“Show me.” Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he rotated it backwards and forwards. Sendak motioned him over, and Shiro complied.

 

Sendak turned him round as he came to a stop in front of him. “Now do it again.” He watched the slave's shoulder muscles move under the skin intently. He carefully pressed his fingers against the muscles, tracing up to the shoulder and squeezing around his arm. He hissed as he knit his brows together. He was fed up with not being able to frown – even blinking hurt right now. “Is there any reason you're pressing the muscle?”  
“I'm seeing how taut it is.” Sendak muttered, eye following the curve of his spine to the hem of the towel. He licked his dry lips as he brought the slave into his lap, pulling his legs apart so they were sat either side of Sendak's thighs. He watched curiously as the slave tugged the towel away at the side.

 

“I'm still sore and everything feels bruised, but just go for it. Why not.”  
“As I said before,” Sendak affixed the towel back around his waist, “I'm concerned about your welfare.” He wasn't sure if he felt insulted or pleased, however he'd certainly be making up for lost time when his slave had controlled motor functions. After all, he had needs that needed fulfilling. Keeping a firm grip around his chest, Sendak slowly rubbed the tense shoulder blades. A startled grunt escaped his mouth, but Sendak ignored it as he massaged the skin. “Staying so tense will be bad for you moving forward.” He whispered into his ear, his slave making a little moan as Sendak licked the edge. “I thought you didn't want to-”  
“I'm just easing your tenseness. It's not my fault if you find this arousing.” He purposefully kneaded the knotted muscle.

 

Shiro's eyes widened as he felt a deep sense of pleasure wash through his body. It wasn't sexual, but it just felt _good_. It shuddered and he covered his mouth after a small whine escaped his lips. “Fuck.” He whispered, letting his body relax. Sendak kneaded the spot again, and he jolted. “You're,” Shiro arched his back, whining again, “doing this on,” he tried to pull away as his breath caught, “purpose!” He bucked his hips and gripped Sendak's prosthetic, panting as he glared around at him. Sendak stared back up, another shit-eating grin on his face, “I would never _attempt_ to find your weak points.”  
“We both know that's a lie.” Shiro let Sendak pull him back so he could shift his legs from the sides, brows knitting as his naked ass settled on top of Sendak's semi-hard erection for a tick or two. Apparently, that was all he needed now to set his insides off. He bit his lip, trying to push down the warm and needy feeling in his ass. _It is official; our life is a hentai. At least there's been no tentacles or bestiality...yet._ Out of the two options, he'd prefer the tentacles. He hoped the Galra thought bestiality was disgusting and outlawed or something. Granted, he'd yet to see any actual animals.

 

“Are you lost in that tiny head of yours?” Shiro blinked slowly up at Sendak, who handed him the small bag. “Go along and change, then come to the kitchen. You shall help me prepare food.” Shiro turned with the bag and hurried off towards the bathroom, clutching the towel that threatened to fall off. As he entered the room, he carefully sat down on one of the small raised platforms by the bath. It probably wasn't supposed to be a seat. He pulled out the contents: two body suits, some short-sleeved robey-thing with tails at the sides, and what might as well be a corset, but without the titty holders – _is that the right word?_ \- and with one arm hole over the right shoulder. He cocked his eyebrow at a similar-looking set of not-leather-underwear at the bottom of the bag and placed it down, wondering what in this room would be the surest way to killing himself quickly. He realised, however, that his clothing options were limited to just the robey-thing. Sighing, he placed the other items back into the bag and pulled the fabric out to have a look; uncertain how much of his ass it would cover. He swallowed back against the fire in his loins, questioning again at the neediness.

 

-

 

The next few movements passed by slowly. Shiro's quintants were spent in Sendak's quarters, and he'd fallen into a routine. Good news was that his body hadn't rejected the arm; bad news was that he was still struggling with certain movements. To increase Shiro's motivations, as Sendak had put it, he'd had Ulaz create splints that stopped him from using his left hand. He had to wear them for most of the quintant, but was allowed breaks to eat using his left hand when his right wasn't able to grip. Sendak had also set him little tasks to do about the place, effectively making Shiro a maid. He'd thankfully not purchased a Galran maid outfit, or at least Shiro hoped he hadn't, but he welcomed the different ways he got to train his arm.

 

Even something so basic as putting water into the pot for tea was a struggle, and he'd broken a few glasses accidentally from misjudging the pressure he was exerting. For every glass he'd broken, Sendak had punished him to varying degrees. At first it was sleeping on the floor, then it built up to arousing him to the point his orgasms were just dry or not given. One night Sendak had Haxus over and he'd split some alcohol; the punishment there was to 'entertain' them by fucking himself with some vibrating toy. Remembering how he writhed and squeaked, how he made sure to put on a show, made his face flush and cock twitch.

 

He braced himself against the wall, resting his forehead against the cold metal in the kitchen, fighting down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat from the humiliation. He wanted to say no, he really did, but he also didn't want the commander to turn aggressive on him again either. These quintant's of a relaxed and even _playful_ Sendak hadn't been too bad, much to Ulaz's surprise. He knew it would end and things would go back to how they were, but perhaps through all the bravado and ego, there was something-

 

“Shiro? Are you alright there?” Ulaz poked his head around the door, and Shiro ripped his mind away from his thoughts. He smiled and watched Ulaz enter the kitchen, placing his bag on the counter. “You look well – still pale – but well.” He offered. Shiro chuckled as he moved to the side of the sink, taking a clean mug and carefully turning it. “My sleeping's got better.”  
“Not on the floor?”  
“No.”  
“And you're not having any nightmares?” Shiro could feel Ulaz's stare and bit his lip as he busied his hand. “I told you I'm not having them.”  
“The Commander has mentioned a few times you thrash about in your sleep, muttering to yourself.” Shiro felt a hand on his shoulder, and he stared down at the kettle that sang as it reached the boil. “Let us talk over...'tea', was it?”  
“Yeah,” Shiro nodded as he slowly lifted the kettle, eyes focussed as he steadied it over the rim of the pot and poured. “Excellent.” Ulaz's voice was warm, and he mentally scolded himself for hiding away from the one Galra who legitimately cared about him. He'd been a complete dick over the last few movements and he owed him an apology.

 

“I'm sorry,” Shiro looked up at the golden eyes as he nudged Ulaz his cup. “What're you sorry for?” He took it and the pot as they moved to the table, Shiro taking his movements slow before feeling confident he had this. “How I've been with you; curt, snappy, just a dick.” He settled in the chair next to him, bowing his head. “I hope you can forgive me.” Shiro felt a hand clap down on his shoulder and pull him in close. “You don't have to apologise for anything. You've not really had a break since you came to us.” Shiro allowed the tight embrace and buried himself into the armour. Ulaz always smelt nice – somewhat sweet but not overwhelmingly so. “We can talk if you would like?”  
“I actually would.” Shiro rose, and motioned for Ulaz to follow with the rest of the tea and pot in his hands. They settled on the sofas and Shiro pulled his legs up to sit on them, resting the cup down, a small smile playing on his lip. “You're better with the grip – further ahead then we thought.”  
“Meditation has helped me,” Shiro flexed his fingers, a small frown on his face. “It's still not right yet.”  
“It won't be for a few more movements.”  
“Yeah.” Shiro took a deep breath in, staring hard at the floor.

 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Ulaz took the cup in his hand. “I don't even know. I guess it's just everything with Yastara.”  
“Are you still worried you killed your friend?”  
“Yes, but it's more than just that.” He glanced to the door, then back to the floor. “I guess I'll start with Keith – the student I was a mentor for. I know we spoke a while ago about him, and your...confusion I suppose that we weren't intimate. One of the...illusions I saw under Yastara's hallucinogenics was him. It was twice. The first time it was,” he screwed his eyes shut, “intimate. The second time was when I 'killed' him.”  
“The intimate part makes you uncomfortable?”  
“Yeah, both do. See back on Earth we have an age of consent. A really long time ago different countries had different ages, but eventually it all equalled out to sixteen Earth years. He was seventeen when I left and, legally, I mean we could, you know.”  
“Be intimate?”  
“Yeah. I actually had a mate, as you put it, at the time but we broke up over some life differences. So nothing would have happened before, and if it did I'd be put in prison rightly so. I just...feel wrong for thinking about him like that? I feel worse because it sounded and acted like him, or at least what my head clearly imagined. But I...the action of me hurting him...it just makes me feel sick and it _hurts_.” Shiro pushed the metal fingers through his hair, some strands getting stuck in the joints as it compressed without his consent. He narrowed his eyes, forcing the fingers open. “I'm scared of myself because I took advantage of a fictitious version of my friend, and what if I ever did it to the real life version? I don't know how to explain it, I can't think right.” He looked to Ulaz, who sipped his tea thoughtfully.

 

“This is a slightly difficult conversation to have with me, as Galra are long-lived.” Ulaz began, “however, may I ask you if you've ever had dreams of any platonic friends in such a way?”  
Shiro nodded and Ulaz leaned forward, “and have you ever tried to make what you dreamt a reality?”  
“No, of course not.”  
“So on the balance of probability, it would be highly unlikely that you would act on your fantasies.”  
“Isn't it wrong though? He's younger than me by seven Earth years. I mean, age is a number, but I'd feel that I'd be taking advantage of his trust.”  
“I think you've two big problems here: your first concern seems to be an abuse of trust, which at present is quite a large aspect in your life. For example, you being upset with me regarding your arm. I would guess your trust has been abused before from those who were close to you?”  
“It has, yeah.”  
“Personally, I have mentored a good few Galra in my lifetime. Between one of my pupils and I, there's a good few hundred deca-phoebs difference. A thousand between another.” He watched Shiro's jaw drop as he mouthed the words. Ulaz shrugged his shoulders. “As our species has advanced, lifespan has increased. I say this because age for us is a lot looser, kits non-withstanding of course.” Ulaz observed Shiro as he drew his legs in closer and slung his arm over himself. “One way to try and find solace is that he's not actually here, and is safe back on Earth. You,” Ulaz paused, “will never see him again, so perhaps you should allow yourself the escape of dreams.”

 

“Perhaps.” Shiro was uncertain. Ulaz was right in that it was dreams and not reality. Hell, he'd dreamt the other night of sodomising Sendak with his own prosthetic, but like that was going to actually happen. He's had a weird dream about a dominatrix Admiral Sanda once, and he was really confused because he held no attraction to women in the slightest. Adam had teased him about it during their graduation ceremony. That was the night they officially got together, thinking about it.

 

“When you talk about your pupil, there is a softness to your tone I'm not certain you notice. It was why I presumed they were a mate to begin with.” Ulaz proffered the pot to Shiro, who held out his cup. “As a potential mate or comrade, he clearly means the moon and stars to you, and the fact you're beating yourself up about the false events concerning him suggests to me you have a deeper bond then you realise.” He set the pot back on the table and took his own cup and took a swig. “Ask yourself; perhaps not now, but when your mind is in a better place, whether you would fight and die for him.” Ulaz stared into the steaming liquid, mouth lifted in the corners.  
“T-Thank you, Ulaz.”  
“Was there anything else?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Are you happy to continue?”  
“Perhaps...not now. Sendak should be back shortly.”  
“Ah, I also need to run my tests and checks. How about you tell me more about Earth medicines again? It's great to learn new things from you.” Ulaz reached across the sofa and pulled his bag close while Shiro chuckled. “Oh wow, where did I even finish last time?”  
“I think around painkillers?” Ulaz patted the seat next to him, and Shiro wandered over, smoothing out the tailed robe he wore. “I almost forgot,” Ulaz rummaged through the bag and brought out the fabric he'd brought Shiro, “this was yours,” he pushed it into Shiro's hand, the small human offering him a wide smile as he pushed his left hand out. “I doubt you remember how I did the knot?”  
“Not a clue.” Ulaz grinned as he removed the splints.

 

-

 

“You've seemed awfully docile as of late.” Ranveig commented, leaning against the wall as he watched Sendak pocket his tablet. “Is it possible that the great Commander Sendak has plateaued? How weak he must be for his slave to cut out his eye-” Sendak's prosthetic gauntlet smashed Ranveig into the wall. He cocked his head to the side, a smug look on his face, “he fought valiantly to try and defeat his opponent with his _own_ strength, as opposed to someone who uses dishonourable tactics.”  
“Are you talking about me or the Champion?”  
“Well that depends.” Sendak retracted his prosthetic with ease, orange eye glowing dangerously.

 

“Will you drecks stop destroying the meeting room and bickering like angry kits?” Gnov slammed her fists to the table, glaring at the two of them with pure disdain. “I preferred it when you were away from Central Command because you're _infuriating_ to be around!”  
“What do you even know of the trials and troubles outside Central, Gnov?” Ranveig spat as he approached, towering over her, “you've grown weak playing politics back here on Central. I'd say you're a waste of a warrior, but you're not that great-”  
“Enough! You know why you were thrown out to the fringes? Because you're as thick as bovas-shit.” She jabbed her claws into his chest, eyes narrowed to a deadly point. “Just because I'm not as outwardly aggressive as you, doesn't mean I don't know how to take you down.”  
“You want to go, little woman?”  
“You want to die, dreck?” She reached for her blade, eyes unmoving as her and Ranveig squared up to each other. Sendak cleared his throat. “It's been a long movement and we need to reach a decision soon. As much as I would support Gnov gutting you, I think I'd have to fight her off first,” he looked to her and received a grunt in reply. “I've things to attend to.” Sendak stalked from the room, giving Ranveig a hard glare as he left.

 

-

 

“Remind me how many movements are in a phoeb, again?” Shiro asked as he held the weights above his head. “There're nine movements in a phoeb, and ten phoebs in a deca-phoeb.” Ulaz muttered as his fingers busily typed out a message on his communicator. “Drop them.” Shiro gently placed them down to the floor and shook out his hands. It had been seven movements since his arm had been replaced, and though he had a few off days here and there, primarily regarding pressure exertion, he'd not broken much else. He did, however, piss off Sendak when he accidentally punched a hole through the wall in the hallway. His eyes held fast on the floor, chewing his tongue. Sendak was beyond pissed, and for the first time since the shower sex, he'd fucked Shiro's mouth and hadn't held back. It happened a few quintants' ago in the evening, and that night he was secured to the end of the bed by an energy leash to sleep on the freezing floor. His throat still hurt, but he'd stopped coughing blood up, which was a positive.

 

“Are you alright, Shiro?” A hand touched his shoulder, and he jolted away. “Y-Yeah, just lost in my thoughts again.”  
“Is it about your pupil? Is that still on your mind?”  
“On occasions, but no, just other things.”  
“You can talk to me.” Ulaz gently rubbed his arms, giving him a warm smile. Shiro nodded, feeling the faintest blush on his cheeks as he curled his metal fingers around Ulaz's wrist. “I know. Thank you.” He leaned in and took Ulaz in a hug, the Galra embracing him back. Shiro drew small circles into the tight body suit, nuzzling his face against the soft short fur. “You're too good to me.” He whispered, a tiny chuckle escaping his lips as Ulaz shivered. “Your breath is very ticklish against my ear.”  
“Sorry.” Shiro did it again, and Ulaz pushed him away by the shoulders, expression nonplussed as he stepped back.

 

There was the a playful glint in Shiro's eyes as he put his arms behind his back and stepped towards Ulaz. “I promise I won't do it again.”  
“If you do, I may need to subdue you.” He offered a tiny grin and watched as Shiro moved closer, his grey eyes glittering under the purple light. “Do I want to know how you'd subdue me?” He arched his eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side.  
“In the same manner as when you escaped.” Ulaz wasn't particularly sure why Shiro was grinning at him, or why he felt there were some hidden intentions behind those eyes. Finally, the human burst into a fit of laughter, before drawing up quickly and planting his lips against his. Shiro held the kiss for a few seconds, his eyes closed, before he pulled away and back to the weights on the floor. “I should get back to lifting these, right?” He glanced behind him, a warm smile on his strong features. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might have to do that again.”  
“Shiro, y-you shouldn't behave like that.”  
“Why's that? It's just us here.”  
“Because,” Ulaz motioned to his collar, “if anyone finds out, we're both out the airlock.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will there be some uliro? Will there? I have no idea. Right now it's platonic and quite cute.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I love hearing from you all ^^


	15. Gladiator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a bad chapter, bar a few little things. More of the manipulation and all that.
> 
> Finally we're starting to move forward a bit! There's some new characters and we get to see more of the Galra Commanders and their slave interactions.
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos - I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!

_Only one more movement to go_. Shiro thought as he followed Sendak through the hallways that led from the right of the atrium. He'd never explored this side of the quarters before, because Sendak rarely came over this way unless he was looking for something in dusty boxes or if he wanted to be left alone, which as of late had started to increase. He knew that Sendak was stressed out with the meetings again, and he'd overheard him talking through possible battle plans in galaxies and systems Shiro had no comprehension of. He'd been waking earlier lately and scurrying off to make him a pot of tea.

 

If there was any version of Sendak he did like, it was him in the mornings. He was groggy and didn't talk much, but surprisingly civil. He had a habit of licking the back of his head when he scooped Shiro into his lap as he read his reports, but apart from that they both enjoyed the quiet. He'd sometimes tell Shiro the basis of his report and answer questions he deemed acceptable, and Shiro understood that he could, in fact, be gentle. From a position of authority, like what he held back in the Garrison, he recognised the difference between 'work' and 'private' Sendak, but wished on occasions his work mindset wouldn't come home with him. Today was his first day off in eight quintants – so a full movement.

 

“We're here.” Sendak motioned the slave forward and patted his shoulder approvingly, he'd just registered he was wearing one of the body suits, which he seemed to like wearing for training. He'd actually got him the tailed robe for that purpose, but he'd never bothered scolding him over it since he never told him, and the slave lived in it. If he had to wash it, he'd sit in a towel until it was dried. Sendak was sure that if he could, he'd sleep in it as well. The other outfit he had told him to keep clean, and the slave had done precisely as he asked.

 

Shiro stepped into a room that had very different light to that of other Galra places. It was bathed in dusky red, and much like the arena, the floor was sandy and it felt humid. He turned to look up at Sendak, tilting his head to the side. “Permission to speak, sir?”  
“Granted.”  
“This room is very different from the others – why is that?”  
“It is set to be like my old home world, planet Diabaazal.”  
“What happened to your planet?” Shiro asked uncertainly. Sendak turned away from him, pacing to a small bench. “It was destroyed. No more questions.”  
“Understood, sir.” He tacked the latter on for good measure.

 

“You understand what we are doing today?”  
“Activating the weaponised aspect of my arm.”  
“Correct. Unlike mine, yours does not have a quintessence feed,” he motioned to the energy between his pauldron and the gauntlet, “so we need to establish how you will do it. Do you recall how you activated it before?”  
“Through rage and the urge to kill, sir.”  
“Then we will try that.” Sendak raised his gauntlet and brought himself into a closed guard, while the slave raised his human arm up, and held his Galra arm below it, elbow out and fist balled. “Begin!” Sendak roared.

 

Like in their previous fight, Sendak charged him and drew the gauntlet across his body like a shield. Shiro clenched his teeth together and screamed as he focussed everything into his arm. All of the assaults, the beatings, the humiliation; Shiro had plenty of reasons to want to kill Sendak. He launched himself forward, the hand glowing purple-white, strange purple markings lighting his arm, as he drove it forward.

 

Blood dripping from Keith's lips. The body falling like a ragdoll down his arm. Those eyes losing the spark of life. “I-I...don't wanna g-go.” His voice nothing but a hollow whisper. Shiro aborted his attack, rolling over the sand, the light dissipating away and the low hum it made dying. Sendak skidded to a stop, snarling and snapping his teeth in anger. “What was that about?” He roared, grabbing Shiro by the leg and flipping him over; the claws of the gauntlet glowing under his chin. “I...my arm, it felt like it was giving out-”  
“Liar.” Sendak hissed as he pulled him up by the scruff, golden eye bathed orange-red in the light. “Let me try again! Please, sir.” Shiro begged as sweat rolled down his brow, chest pumping with anxiety. Sendak snorted, yanking him roughly to his feet and pushing him backwards. “You will attack me instead. Strike to kill.” He took a few long paces away and brought the arm across his body again, nodding at Shiro to make his second attempt.

 

Shiro paced away, glaring down at the sand beneath his feet. _He's not Keith. You can do this. Show that bastard what we can do, otherwise it's just another humiliation._ Shiro ground his teeth together. He wasn't going to let Yastara's hallucinations fuck him over getting back to the arena. He snarled, feeling the fire in his chest reignite. Without warning he pivoted around and launched at Sendak screeching, arm aglow and eyes locked on to his target. Sendak smirked and muttered something Shiro couldn't hear as he punched forward.  
“ _Shiro! Stop!”  
_Shiro threw himself to the ground, skidding to Sendak's feet. The light faded again. He curled his organic hand into a fist and, between frustrated sobs, punched the sand.

 

“Pathetic.” He felt Sendak's clawed boot on his shoulder as it pulled him over, so he was laid facing the ceiling. “You were fine; the strike was almost perfect. Why,” he bent down and pulled Shiro up by his collar, “did you hesitate? No lies, or I will make sure the only thing you see for the rest of your miserable life, is your own face reflected back at you in the floor as you are fucked within an inch of your life.” He pushed Shiro back down and straddled his hips, baring down. “Explain.” The snarl rumbled deep in his chest. Shiro averted his gaze and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I...keep hearing him – the illusion that Yastara cast of my friend – I can't strike. I want to, but then I remember; see and hear things and I just... _can't_.” Shiro kept his eyes focused on the wall. He was too scared to face Sendak; too weak.

 

The weight lifted from his chest and he watched the commander pace away and pick up his tablet. He settled on the bench and tapped away on the screen, then lifted it to his mouth. Sendak's gaze rested on Shiro as he pulled himself onto his knees. They watched each other in silence until someone answered on the other end.  
“Commander?”  
“I need you to purge something for me.”  
“Is this what we spoke about a while ago?”  
“It is. It's still a problem.”  
“I can come in half a varga.”  
“Thank you.” Sendak ended the call and rose from the bench, dusting his armour off. He silently strode to Shiro, who sat with a puzzled look on his face, and grabbed him by the hair. Shiro hissed, but as usual, it was ignored, as Sendak dragged him from the room and along another corridor until they stopped at a door. Sendak placed his hand against a panel, and as it opened, he shoved Shiro inside without a word. He blinked like a deer in the headlights as the door closed behind, and he was left to his own devices.

 

“I'm sorry I had to call you here.”  
“It's quite alright.” The druid stalked in that eerie way that made anyone's fur stand on end as they entered the atrium. It peered about, as if looking for something. “The slave is in the cell.”  
“Any reason?” They followed Sendak along the dark hallways until they reached the door. “It'll make your job easier.” Sendak opened the door, the slave huddled in the corner. “He's all yours. Just do as we discussed.” Sendak's gaze flicked from the slave to the druid and back again, before turning. “Certainly.” He watched as the druid approached the slave, who glared up. “Behave yourself or it'll be worse.” Sendak snapped, those odd grey eyes looking to him cautiously.

 

The bony clawed fingers scraped along his forehead before resting over his temples. “Relax.” The alien raspy voice tried to coo as the claws dug in. Shiro's body trembled as his head started to feel like it was crackling; neurons firing in every direction. The crackling feeling turned to a sharp, white-hot pain like his mind was being assaulted by a thousand tiny knives. His eyes rolled back into his head. Those amethyst eyes staring loving down at Shiro as Keith caught his lips in a heated kiss. His eyes rolling back as he bucked his hips against Shiro. Those arms wrapped around his neck as he grinned up, black strands of hair stuck to his forehead. Affectionate whispers. Hands running down his chest. The blood on his lips. The fleeting heartbeat. The hot feeling on his arm. Immovable corpse. Dead open eyes staring down at Shiro as he was trapped on the floor. “Shiro, please don't hurt me.”

 

The slave's screech was primal and pained as he fell back into the corner, body slipping down to the floor in a comically slow way. The druid pulled away, turning to look at Sendak. “His memories regarding the illusion or any mention of it, as well as the events up until entering the training room have been purged. There's a few bits I noticed in there that I'd possibly look at cleaning up.”  
“That will be all. I just want him fighting.” Sendak turned and led them back through the hallways to the door. “How long will he be out?”  
“Roughly two vargas.” They observed Sendak silently for a long moment that made the fur along his spine stand on end, before leaving.

 

He flopped down on the sofa, running his hand through his fur in frustration. He didn't want to have to get to this point, but Ulaz had been the one to tell him it was the only option he could support if the slave had to go back to the arena. He wasn't happy about the suggestion either, and had made Sendak swear on his honour it was a last resort. He picked himself back up and made his way back to the cell. The slave was awkwardly laid on the floor, neck raised against the wall. Sighing, Sendak came in and picked him up, carrying him back to the sofa where he'd been been beforehand. He eased him down and propped him up against the pillow, dusting the bits of sand off of him and feeling for anything else that may make the slave question him later, before wandering off to his office.

 

“You're awake, finally.” Shiro slowly opened his eyes, staring at the gauntlet in front of him. “Y-Yeah. I'm sorry, I didn't realise I fell asleep.” Shiro picked himself up, rubbing his head. “Headache?”  
“Y-Yeah.” He frowned, he didn't remember falling asleep at all. He looked at Sendak, who picked up the half-drank glass of water he had earlier. Shiro took it, downing the water in a few gulps. “I think you were mumbling about having a painful head, so I left you to it. I've done some more work while you've been napping.”  
“I thought today was your day off? Do we,” Shiro licked his lips, “still get to do some training today?” He looked up hopefully at Sendak, who grinned back at him. “Of course. We need to test and train that arm of yours. Hopefully, it will work fine.”  
“I hope so too. I want to get back to the arena.” He punched his fist into his palm, humming to himself. Sendak chuckled and pulled him up. “Then let us train.” He turned on his heel and Shiro followed behind him.

 

“Thank you, for letting me rest. I didn't know I needed it.”  
“Sometimes sleep can take you by surprise. Did you dream of anything?”  
“No. Why?”  
“You occasionally talk in your sleep, mutter names or things like that.” Sendak looked down at him. “I'm curious.” He opened a door and Shiro stepped into a dusky-red room. He looked around, ruffling the back of his growing hair. “It's humid like the arena. Permission to speak?”  
“Granted.”  
“Why's it so different in here? The humidity, the light, the sand?”  
“It's a room that is designed to be like my old home planet, Diabaazal. No more questions.” Sendak raised his prosthetic like a shield. “You will focus upon activating your new arm, and you will strike to kill. Understand?”  
“I'll try.” Shiro took a deep breath. He couldn't rely on bloodlust alone to get his arm working, he needed to focus it so it was natural.

 

It took a few dobosh's for the slave to reactivate the arm, but when he did, he threw himself at Sendak. The attack connected, and it was considerably stronger than previous strikes. Sendak smirked as he batted him back into the sand. “Again!” He barked. The slave came back for another attack, this one striking high. Sendak knocked him back again, the force rattling his gauntlet.

 

They continued training for vargas; Shiro practised deactivating and reactivating the arm. Sometimes it took a while, other times not so much. He was still a bit wary because he kept relying on the negative emotions inside him, but he had a movement to get used to this. It was a good start, or at least he hoped it was. By the end of the session, he'd flopped into the sand, panting heavily. Sendak approached and nudged him with his boot. “You have made an acceptable start. We will reconvene later, for now, sustenance.” He beckoned lazily through the door, Shiro scrabbling to his feet and aired the body suit. He liked this; the training and these small moments. His head shot with pain, perhaps his headache wasn't as gone as he thought.

 

-

 

Shiro straightened out the leather guard around his wrist, flexing his organic fingers. He only had one arm guard remaining now from his fight with Sendak – the other mangled and probably still attached to his old arm. He smoothed the armour over his chest, smiling to himself. “Are you ready to leave?” Sendak stood in the doorway checking his communicator briefly before turning his attention to Shiro. Nodding, he made for the door. “Wait. You're being leashed before we go out.” Sendak came over, holding the metal end and attached it to his collar. He pressed a button with the other bit he had in his hand, and the purple energy rope came to life. “Don't frown. You tried to escape and haven't earned that much freedom.”  
“When will I?” Shiro groaned as Sendak tugged him through the door. “When you prove your loyalty.” He didn't look at him, but paused as the door opposite slid open.

 

Another Galra – more blue in colour – appeared. She was talking to someone, and a large alien leaned down and stepped over the threshold. Shiro tensed as he looked over the alien; they carried a mighty war axe in their huge muscular arms. Their face was rather flat, but had sharp angular crests that went back and pointed up over their cheeks and on top of their head. From what Shiro could see, they were battle-hardened with scars littered all over their green-grey skin. The two looked to Sendak, then Shiro.

 

“Good morning, Commander Sendak.”  
“Commander Ladnok, you are taking your slave to the arena?”  
“She has a name, Sendak.” Ladnok crossed her arms over her armour, pupils fixated on Sendak. “Remind the Commander.”  
“Kaleska,” Kaleska bowed low, raising her arm to her chest. Ladnok sniffed in approval. “And what might be the name of your little slave, hm?” She padded over to Shiro and lifted his chin, her black pupils coldly looking down at him. He opened his mouth to answer, but Sendak tugged his leash. “His name is of no import. Using their names gives them a sense of self, and slaves should know their place.” Sendak rumbled, glaring over at her. _Well that explains a lot._ Shiro's gaze flicked to the floor. Ulaz was the only one to use his name, and it was something he appreciated.

 

“You were always so uptight about these things.” Ladnok shrugged and motioned for Kaleska to follow. “So we're both going the same way?” She eyed Sendak who gave a curt nod in return. “The Emperor has agreed for him to return. As you can see,” he jabbed his claw backwards, “he has a much better arm.”  
“I also see you've collared him.” She muttered. Sendak chuckled darkly, “well they must know their place. Slaves are slaves in all capacities so far as I am concerned.”  
“I don't think we'll see eye-to-eye on that.” Ladnok smirked and Sendak snorted. “You just had to go there.” They looked at each other and chuckled, Ladnok elbowing him in the ribs, “it's good to chat like this, it's been too long.”  
“I saw your brother a phoeb ago.”  
“Oh gods he told me.”  
“He speaks highly of you.”  
“Well that's nice to hear.” She mused as they passed the fountain.

 

Shiro watched the two Commander's in front of him, slightly perplexed how their banter worked.  
“Hey.” Shiro looked up to Kaleska, who walked beside him without restraints, a leash, or a collar for that matter. He wouldn't admit it, but he thought she was not a she. He offered her a small smile, and she raised her thick fingers, each one as thick as two and a half of his, to his neck to brush the collar. Her green eyes narrowed as she looked to Sendak's back and then back to Shiro, gaze softening a little. “Tiny's safe with me.”  
“Huh?”  
“Ya safe with me. I'll look after ya. 'Specially around dreckface.”  
“Dreckface?”  
“Champion.” Her voice was a guttural rumble, earning looks from Ladnok and Sendak. “Talkin' to Commander Sendak's slave.” Ladnok nodded and turned back to Sendak, carrying on with their conversation. “Talk later. Silence now.” She motioned her axe handle to the lift, and Shiro nodded as he picked up his pace to stand near Sendak, fiddling nervously with his guard and occasionally shooting glances at Kaleska as she leaned down, touching up Ladnok's lipstick with small and delicate movements. He watched Ladnok cup her face and press her forehead against the crest.

 

On their way down to the arena, they passed groups of Galra who stared and whispered. _At least I have more on my ass for once_. Shiro stared at the floor as he tried to listen to the conversations, catching the odd comment here and there. As they stepped out of the last lift, they were greeted by two other Galra, their own gladiators in tow. Shiro's body turned rigid as his eyes caught a pair of bright yellow ones, skin bronze and a head of shaved russet hair. _It can't be Yastara, they're dead._ He jolted when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Zestera, and the tall one's Banlu. The Galra are Commanders Trugg and Gnov.” Kaleska rumbled as she lifted her hand.

 

“What's this? A day out for High Command?” Trugg snorted as she tugged her gladiator, Banlu, closer.  
“Apparently so,” Ladnok smiled as she came to a stop in front of Trugg, giving her a peck on the cheek.  
“Commanders, please. We are in public.” Gnov turned to Sendak, who shrugged his shoulders. “That's true.” Trugg sighed before leaning in to whisper to Ladnok. Her gaze caught Shiro, and Trugg walked forward, the hair from her mohawk falling over her face. “Are you sure your little fucktoy is going to be alright in the arena, Sendak? He's not going to open his legs to every-fucking-gladiator?” Shiro followed her gaze to Sendak, who scowled down at her. “This _fucktoy_ took my eye out. I don't have any reason to doubt his aptitude.” He undone the leash from Shiro's collar and placed a clawed hand on his shoulder. “I'd worry about your own gladiators.”  
“Sen-Sen, stop being a bitch.” Gnov sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “Don't _use that name_.” He spat, gaze murderous.

 

Shiro was, somehow, managing to maintain his composure well considering the company. What he _wanted_ to do was run his hand through this Yastara lookalike, and beat the ever-loving shit out of the Commander who called him a fucktoy. He could feel curious eyes on him from the other gladiators, and slowly the group moved onwards, Sendak snapping every time the purple-haired Commander with the same-coloured patches around her eyes called him by his nickname. He felt a heavy hand again on his shoulder and looked up to see Kaleska looking down at him, giving it a quick reassuring squeeze. “Ignore 'em. Galra're petty.”  
“Tell me a'out it.” Banlu muttered, their voice rather shrill and enunciating the vowels. Shiro craned his neck to look at Banlu, who bowed their head down to him. “Where's...was it Zesteria?”  
“ _Zestera._ ” The voice came from behind him, the Yastara-lookalike glaring daggers at Shiro. “I'm sorry-”  
“Enough.” They pushed past Shiro, yellow eyes flashing dangerously. “Don't min' Zestera, they're 'ad at talkin'.” Banlu patted Shiro's head gently as they followed the others to a large set of majestic-looking doors that Shiro vaguely recognised.

 

“Sendak, _don't._ ” Gnov gripped his elbow as they entered to find Ranveig coming towards them. He looked between Sendak and Gnov, then the others. His gaze rested on what Sendak could only presume was his slave, because his lips turned upwards. “Oh, it's my slave's plaything. I'm so happy you brought it down, perhaps he can vent some of his frustrations into its ass, remember?” Although he was addressing Sendak, Ranveig was looking at his slave the entire time. “If Sendak here hasn't fucked you loose, I'm sure the Champion will enjoy himself on this,” he went to trail his hand over his face. Sendak snapped, his prosthetic smashing into Ranveig's side. “If you _dare_ lay a finger on him without my consent, I will see to it myself you're stripped of more than just your title.”  
“I don't swing that way, but good luck.” Ranveig spat, pushing himself away from Sendak and stalking out.

 

The other Commander's moved onwards, except for the ones with patches around their eyes. Zestera moved close to her side, checking around for any possible threat, their bulbous tail twitching behind them. “You know what he's trying to do.”  
“I know but,” Sendak trailed off, motioning for Shiro to come, “he's just become such an arrogant dreck, and his existence just pisses me off these days.” He growled, holding Shiro tightly against his chest. Shiro was uncertain. It was nice that Sendak had stood up for him a few times today now, however he wasn't convinced it was genuine either.

 

Eventually he was signed in and allowed to pass into the halls beyond the entrance. It had been a long time, and he felt a lost as he stared at the high walls around him. Zestera had gone on without him, which he was frankly happy about. “Tiny, over here.” Shiro looked up to see Kaleska wave him down, smile on her face. “My name's Shiro,” he called, jogging over to her. She nodded slowly, mouthing the name. “Ya got a strange name, Shiro.”  
“Kaleska is just as strange.” He grinned sheepishly and she snorted, patting his shoulder so roughly he fell forward. “Sorry, forget ya don't know me.” She pulled him up by the shoulder and lead him through the halls. “I'm a rudiarius – a trainer. Used to fight in the arena deca-phoebs ago but ya can see,” she motioned to her body, “not so good any more.”  
“Is that why your outfit is really intricate?” Shiro looked up at her as she stifled back a laugh. “Ya're quick thinker.” She motioned to her whip at the side of her hip. “Gotta keep Champion in check. Excited to see the new crop.” She prodded Shiro's arm, “especially this in action. Fist fighter?”  
“I'd prefer to be.” Shiro made a small gasp as they stepped out onto the sands, at least a dozen other figures there.

 

Shiro glanced around and spotted who he was after. “There's someone I need to see.” He muttered. Kaleska followed his gaze. “Be wary – I've got no trust in dreckface. Slimy, arrogant.”  
“We were cellmates; he's not...bad.” He looked at the ground, Kaleska watching him like a hawk. “He insults our craft for what he did to ya. Dirty, wrong.” She patted Shiro's shoulder and moved away. Taking a deep breath, Shiro made a beeline for Nadiva as he practised his forms in the sand.  
“Hey,” Shiro offered as he approached slowly. He took Nadiva in; his long teal hair now jaggedly cut short. He looked drawn, and his already pale skin looked paler. “Shiro?”  
“Yeah. I finally got back here.” He held up his prosthetic arm, “I think this might be useful.”  
“For the arena, yes.”  
“I mean for what else we spoke about, remember?” Shiro took a step towards Nadiva, who hummed as he remembered. “I recall you had an answer for me.” His voice was more bass now, clearly comfortable with the interaction. “I do. I'd be...interested in your proposition.”  
“I see. We will discuss in the showers later.” He walked towards the gaggle of gladiators forming. “Best hurry, before Rudiarius whips us.” He flashed Shiro a grin, and Shiro followed in tow.

 

-

 

“To the showers with ya, ya sweaty bastards!” Kaleska bellowed, her voice echoing around the arena. Shiro scrubbed his brow and followed behind Nadiva and Banlu, who were discussing something. “Ya did a good job, Shiro,” he felt a large hand tousle his hair and nodded, flashing a grin up at Kaleska. “Thanks.”  
“Ya arm is quite...terrifying. Burning through armour like it's paper.” She brushed her fingers against the metal, brows knit together. “More weapon-time for ya though.”  
“Sadly. I probably should,” Shiro muttered as they reached the changing room. He unbuckled the long boots he wore, keeping his head down as the other aliens stripped around him, completely at ease. Kaleska plodded out the the room to the showers; mixed by the looks of it.

 

“Shiro,” the bass voice rumbled in his ear. Shiro sucked in a gasp and turned his head around. “Yeah?” He watched the last alien enter the showers, the hiss of the water and chatter loud enough to keep their conversation drowned out. Nadiva settled next to him, brushing away the sharp strands as he leaned forward. “It seems slavery has not treated either of us kindly.” Nadiva let out a half-snort, running his hand through the choppy hair again. “No, but you look a lot worse then I do.” Shiro awkwardly patted his shoulder, unsure whether he should comfort Nadiva or not. He fell to the former – he'd thought his situation was bad, but considering his few and far between interactions with Ranveig, Sendak's rage if he was brought up, and the state of the man in front of him; his life had actually been not as bad in hindsight these past movements. That, and if he was going to work with Nadiva, he probably should show some level of caring.

 

“I suppose I do look bad as of late. The arena does that to you.” He motioned to a long scar across his chest; the line running deep. “That's my most recent one. I see you have a few of your own – Sendak?”  
“Yeah.”  
“He's burned you, I see.” Nadiva didn't ask as he ran his calloused fingertips over Shiro's burns, a light crease on his brow. Shiro shifted, pushing his hand away. “It happened a while ago.” He paused, “I want to join you, with the rebels. How does this exactly work?” He scooted closer to Nadiva, knowing their time would be limited. He felt hot breath against his ear as Nadiva leaned in close, the low rumble vibrating around his head. “I've got a contact, which is all you need to know for now. I will need to pass on a message to get authority to let you in. Then,” he took Shiro's flesh hand in his, slowly turning it over and tracing a line over his palm, “we make a blood seal. For now, if you can give me any information, that would be a start.”  
“What type of information?” Shiro pulled his hand back, the sensation a bit too ticklish for his liking. “Military-related. Planned prisoner drops, base locations, that type of thing. I thought this would be obvious?”  
“It is, but confirming my guesses. I can't read Galran-”  
“But you can listen for now.” Nadiva smirked at Shiro.

 

“Champion, Tiny. Showers.” They both whipped their heads around to find Kaleska stood naked in the doorway, holding her whip and eyeing Nadiva more than anything. “Tiny is collared, _leave him_.”  
“My deepest apologies, Rudiarius, we were just catching up. I was just asking Shiro about his fellow humans.”  
“Y-Yeah.” Shiro's voice faltered, trying to play it up as something difficult to talk about. Kaleska didn't look convinced. In truth, he'd not been thinking much about Sam and Matt. It wasn't, as he walked to the showers, Kaleska acting as a wall between them both, because he didn't care. He'd just had so much more to think about. It seemed as well that they'd at least be alive, since Sam was at a science camp or something, where they'd _want_ to keep him alive. Matt was in some type of labour camp. He wasn't on a mining colony, so that settled his mind a bit. He bit his lip as he slowly scrubbed as his skin, letting his head fall back to feel the warm water run down his face. His focus had shifted, but he still knew that the core reason for him to keep going was going to be to save them. He knew how to be patient, even if he hated how drawn out things became.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a bit of a celebration, of sorts. Also; Haxus is back :) also something a bit raaaacy. I mean, I think we've waited a while for some Shendak.
> 
> Rudiarius is a slave, who was an ex-gladiator back during the Roman Empire. They had better treatment then their other slave peers, and trained gladiators. We;ll find out a bit more over time about some of the gladiators, and possibly why Gnov has a Yastara lookalike/their behaviour.
> 
> I want to hope I'll get this out around the weekend, or by Friday. One of them.


	16. Penetration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get this chapter out fast? I did! I really like writing smut, so enjoy 13 pages of filth.
> 
> Tags will be updated, but drunk sexual things happens. I know that may be triggering, so if that's the case you will want to ignore everything from a particular smooching paragraph down. I've not explicitly said sex, rape, or dubcon, because at this point the scene can be taken in a few different ways depending on what you the reader thinks. As usual, there will be repercussions at a later point, or next chapter. More notes at the bottom.
> 
> Thank you as well for the lovely comments and kudos ^^ I hope you all generally enjoy this chapter!

“I really don't belong in there.” Shiro stood rigidly on the spot as he eyed the eatery, then the clientele through the glass. Sendak sighed, looking down at him. “Technically, no you don't, but Haxus is meeting me here, and I can't be bothered to take you back home. It's been a long day, and I suppose you need feeding as well.” Sendak bent down to give him a quick sniff. “You don't smell too awful either.”  
“Thanks.”  
“That wasn't a compliment.”  
“I know.” Shiro and Sendak's eyes met, before he received a sharp tug on the leash. “Regardless, I can take you in because of my position.”  
“You get a lot of perks because of what you do.”  
“That's what happens when you're the Emperor's right hand, and served the Empire for so long.” He muttered, turning his head to look for Haxus.

 

“Sorry for the lateness, Commander. I was just finishing my last shift.”  
“Your reassignment is finished now?  
“Good behaviour.” He lowered his arm from his chest and peeked around Sendak's broad form. “How was his first day?” Haxus jabbed a claw in Shiro's direction.  
“Yes, how was it?”  
“Fine.”  
“Well obviously you pleased the Rudiarius; you're not gore on the end of her war axe.”  
“Wait what?” Shiro didn't get a response as he was pulled into the eatery, glaring at Sendak's back. He'd have preferred to know he could have _died_ today.

 

A server eyed the group, sharp eyes lingering on Shiro specifically, before turning their attention to the two Galra.  
“Do you have a reservation?”  
“Yes,” Haxus stepped to the counter, flashing his tablet screen to the server. They scrutinised it for a moment before handing it back. “We do not have any facilities for,” they motioned to Shiro, clearly tempering their words, “your _tag-along_.”  
“He's quite fine sat on the floor. Would you prefer I kept him under the table?” Sendak towered over the server, drumming his claws over his gauntlet. “For the great Commander Sendak and his entourage, we are able to make an exception.”  
“Well, so long as our dining experience isn't disrupted this evening, then everything should be fine. Slave, do you think you can sit quietly under the table?” Sendak turned to look down at Shiro, who brought himself to attention, “yes, Commander.” He crossed his arm over his chest and bowed. Sendak hummed approvingly and looked back to the server. “There should be no issues, I presume?”  
“None, Commander.” They let the title hang, before motioning them to follow through the restaurant and up a few flights of stairs until the came to a raised pentagonal platform that over-looked the floor and out into the atrium below.

 

They handed menus to Haxus and Sendak, while Shiro settled on the cold floor under the table, eyebrow twitching in frustration as he glowered at the floor. He didn't want to be here for preciselythis reason. If Sendak hadn't put the inhibitor back on, he'd happily shove it through the server's throat. He felt a small squeeze on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Sendak peering down at him. “Provided you are quiet, I can feed you bits. Understand?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Good boy.” Sendak ruffled his hair, and picked up conversation with Haxus.

 

For the next fifteen dobosh's, his presence was ignored until Sendak passed him down a glass of water. Shiro thanked him, but he didn't pay attention as he continued talking. Their conversation revolved around Galra, places, and policies he didn't understand. He guessed half of it was in-jokes, when Haxus would snort or Sendak would roar with laughter. The first time Shiro jolted out of his quiet trance, hitting the top of his head on the table. He'd earned growls and a sharp kick from Sendak in the back. Other then that, he was bored shitless. He pushed himself back into the plush booth seat cover, closing his eyes and trying to just rest for now.

 

“Well I finally managed to take you out for dinner.” Haxus lounged back in the booth, ignoring the flashing light on his communicator. A chuckle rumbled from Sendak's throat as he flicked through the menu. “Don't go requesting the most expensive thing, or half of it.”  
“Well then what's the point?” Sendak lowered the menu, a shit-eating grin on his face as he jabbed at what he'd spent a good ten dobosh's debating over.  
“It's the same thing you had last time. _Really_?”  
“I just couldn't decide on which one.” Sendak took mock offence as he downed his drink. “That sounded nice, but manchin is always too stringy and sticks in your throat.”  
“Commander Sendak; meat connoisseur,” Haxus drawled. Sendak stifled a snort as he closed the menu and put it aside. “I have a comeback for that, but I'm not drunk enough to say it.” He leaned back, purring in contentment. “Should I order some Nederian vodka?”  
“You spoil me.” Sendak rolled the base of the glass against the table, glancing down to check the slave. “I think he's sleeping.” A small grunt was enough for them to realise he was in fact, not asleep. Both Galra shrugged and continued.

 

“Have the meetings been intense?” Haxus inquired carefully, placing Sendak's order for him and requesting more drinks via the tablet. “They have. I forgot how much I hate Janka. He's a coward and an insult to High Command. Trying to suck up to Gnov.”  
“She gets far too political for my liking, but she's pleasant enough.” Haxus smiled, watching Sendak look to the side. “Yeah, she's changed a lot since we met millennia ago. A lot colder now, but then it makes sense.” He leaned to rest his elbow on the table, stacking the glasses and pushing them towards the server from earlier as they placed new glasses down, and then a bottle each. Sendak arched his brow at Haxus, who merely chuckled, “I'm getting your drunk. You need it.”

 

“Are Trugg and Ladnok courting again?” Haxus asked as he lowered the glass from his lips.  
“Of course they are. That's until they argue again.”  
“So it's not work that has you on the vodka?”  
“No.” Sendak swilled the liquid in his glass. “It's just we're no closer to finding the Red Lion. The rebels seem to have vanished from all scans, but...” he leaned in closer, voice low, “we lost contact with the twenty-third fleet three quintants' ago. There'll be an announcement tomorrow, but we're not receiving anything back from the ships – like they just vanished.”  
“Is there anything to cause the lose of communications?”  
“Not in the area they're in.”  
“You think the rebels have set up jamming equipment?”  
“If they have, it's well-hidden and more advanced than our own.” Sendak took a sip of his drink, swirling the liquid in the glass, “there's a theory it might be the Blade of Marmora, or the rebels have found some amazing scientist and engineer. It's just a nightmare right now. Oh,” he motioned at the food being carried around in front of them. Haxus thanked the server as they left.

 

“Wake up,” Sendak jabbed at Shiro's cheek with his prosthetic claws. Shiro groaned, tilting his head back. “You've been quiet, albeit asleep. Eat.” He patted the seat next to him and Shiro awkwardly crawled up. Sendak pulled him in close and buried his claws into Shiro's ever-growing hair. This close, the smell of the vodka clung to Sendak. Shiro wrinkled his nose as he pushed the fork towards him. “I'd like to feed myself, sir.” He muttered. Sendak shrugged and let Shiro take it. Both him and Haxus watched as he pushed the fork into his mouth, the sauce over the meat quite sweet. He made an appreciative hum in the back of his throat as he swallowed, eyes flicking nervously between the two Galra. He slowly handed Sendak back his fork, but he pushed his hand towards the plate. “You can have more than one piece of meat, here.” He took Shiro\s hand and pressed the fork down into something else. Likely against his better judgement, he ate a little more.

 

He felt too anxious to continue after a few dobosh's and lied he was full so he could go back under the table. Sendak nodded slowly, knocking back another glass of vodka. “You will try some dessert later. For now,” he murmured, brushing his claws through Shiro's hair, “I have a job for you.” Shiro didn't like that smirk. “What do you want me to do?” He didn't know why he bothered asking when Sendak shoved his face into his groin, “I don't think you need any more instruction. Haxus?”  
“Only if the Commander deems me worthy,” Haxus smirked at Sendak, who ran his hands more vigorously through the brown hair. “Best get on those knees. You are not to spill a drop since we're out in public.” He commanded, unclipping the front of his uniform. He noted Haxus move a little closer, unfastening his uniform at the bottom. Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat, taking a quick swig of water before focusing on the two Galra cock's sat in front of him. _How the fuck am I supposed to manage with this?_ He got comfortable on his knees and reached out with both hands, at least happy Sendak had his metal arm to contend with, wrapping one around each cock.

 

The conversation above carried on as if nothing was happening under the table. Shiro worked both cocks carefully, licking cautiously at the tip of each. “We don't have all quintant, slave. Get on with it.” Haxus hissed, blindly grabbing for his hair until he laced his claws into it, and shoving Shiro down on his cock, the ridges catching under his teeth. He choked back a cough as Haxus roughly forced his head down, taking in more then he was ready for. “Do be careful,” Sendak purred, spreading his left leg slightly, “I've not been working him lately.”  
“Apologies.” Haxus chuckled, loosening his grip a little. “Don't forget to please your master.”

 

Shiro growled around the cock in his mouth and pulled himself off, tugging sharply on Haxus's dick as he moved to Sendak and vigorously forced himself down the length. “It seems that done the trick.” Shiro ignored Sendak's mocking coo as he ground his teeth in, biting down hard between the ridges. “Good boy.” It seemed his dear _master_ was having to stifle a moan. _Good._ He roughly pumped the base and Haxus's length to a quick rhythm, flicking between them both with quick licks and trailing his tongue over both cocks, pressing his canines deep into the stiff ridges.

 

“He's certainly got better.” Haxus commented from above. “Yes. Ah yes, did I tell you about the shower?” Shiro stopped dead. _Please don't say he's going to talk about that. Oh fucking hell, no._ “If you did I don't remember.”  
“Oh, he was very pliant and needy. Arching his back and thrusting against me as I took him.” Shiro felt metal claws in his hair, pushing him down on his cock. His cheeks burned in embarrassment as Sendak continued to inform Haxus of all the details. “I was pleased when he leaned in to the touch the most. I think he's realising it's better to enjoy it.”  
“It certainly is easier to let your inhibitions go. I never understand that with slaves, they should just accept their lot and get on with it.”  
“Some do, but you don't want them to just roll over.”  
“Oh that's true. It's boring when there's no fight at all.”  
“Agreed. That's when I usually get bored and dispose of them.”  
“You gave that female to Trugg, but what about the one before that?”  
“That was millennia ago. I think I sent him to the brothels. He was a great hole, but too brittle for my liking. At least this one has serviced males.”

 

Haxus had his claws in Shiro's hair and was pushing his cock deep into his throat, poking the back as he slid easily in and out. “I feel close.” Haxus grunted as he ground Shiro's face down to the hilt. “Just empty in his mouth.” Sendak said as he guided Shiro's hand up and down more forcefully. “Drink back Lieutenant Haxus's come, then you can have mine.” Shiro merely grunted in response, trying to hurry this along as best he could while ignoring the twinges of his own arousal. He hated this, and he hated his body even more after the debasing remarks stirred something he'd never admit to. Sometimes he wondered if he should just burn his own genitals by with his prosthetic, but in retrospect it was completely pointless. After a few more dobosh's, Haxus ground out his orgasm deep into Shiro's throat. The thick hotness a tsunami. Haxus pulled him off, watching him intently from his viewing point. Thick strings of saliva and come snapped in the centre as Shiro took in a deep breath, closing his watery eyes. “I don't know if you look better on your knees or covered in blood.” Haxus purred, pushing Shiro on to Sendak's cock. “Now please your master by letting him face-fuck you.”

 

It was arguably easier having had Haxus come down his throat already, because although his jaw ached, Sendak's girth didn't feel too bad for once. He didn't want to think he was getting better; perhaps accustomed was a better word? Then again it'd been since he put the hole in the wall, and that was a few movements ago now since Sendak last face-fucked him. He caught Sendak's light frown briefly. Of course he was watching. He glanced up as best he could through watery eyes, noting the communicator in his hand pointed down. _Don't act surprised._ In reality, he wasn't at all. Exhaling through his nose as best he could, he braced himself against Sendak's thighs and ground himself down. It earned the tiniest of growls from above. His ears pricked to footsteps behind him and the clatter of crockery above him, Haxus again thanking the server.

 

“Think you'll enjoy dessert?” Haxus smirked as he picked the decorative bits off his cake, licking the tips of his claws.  
“I think I may more then I usually do.” Sendak set the communicator down beside him on the table and picked up the spoon, poking at a piece of fruit. He let out a small hiss and tightened his grip around the back of the slave's head, keeping him in place until he felt himself empty fully. It was a good start to the evening so far. He watched as the slave pulled away, lips swollen and wet. Sendak grinned to Haxus, motioning to the vodka. With a knowing smirk, he poured a small glass. “Here, it'll help wash down the taste.” With a mumbled thank you, the slave took it and knocked it back in one. He coughed, doubling over to try and keep the noise contained. “You really are being so good today. Come, sit up with us again.” Sendak couldn't help but snort at the angry twinge in his slave's eye as he glowered up.

 

“Here, try this,” Sendak dipped his claws into the thick sauce, it's consistency close to that of freshly melted chocolate. He ran a claw over the swollen bottom lip and slowly, Shiro allowed his mouth to open. It was almost like cinnamon, but if you combined it with banana and cherry. Shiro delicately licked the sauce off Sendak's claws, and in turn he ran them over his tongue, then finally over his lips they pulled out. “Are you looking needy for release or because you want more dessert?” Sendak scooped him into his lap and leaned into the crook of his neck, hot breath against his cool skin. The smell of the vodka was stronger now, which probably explained why both had become more brazen in their actions. Shiro hissed when he felt clawed fingers rub over the fabric, stroking his cock that _had_ been softening. Shiro pointed to the dessert with no hesitation. Sendak hummed and brought it closer. “Use your fingers,” there was the slightest slur on the 's' noises.

 

-

 

Getting back with Sendak and Haxus had taken longer than it should of. Tipsy Sendak _really_ couldn't keep his hands to himself to the point where even Haxus had to gently remind him he needed to wait until they got back. “But look at his ass,” Sendak pulled Shiro roughly and bent him over, claws squeezing the skin. “It's just so _tight_.”  
“I know, Commander.” Haxus said despondently as he rubbed his brow.  
“Listen,” Sendak smacked it, Shiro crying out as he jolted, “it makes a good sound _and_ he does that.”  
“He does. You can show me what other sounds he can make when we get back.”  
“Or we can both do it. Yeah, as your serperior- sorp-suparea- Commander, I order you to fuck him with me.” Sendak chuckled, pressing his fingers between Shiro's now very tense ass-cheeks.

 

“Commander, there's no way that's going to work.” He had to say something. Shiro eased himself from Sendak's grip and smoothed the fabric. “You're...both...much _larger_ then what I've had back on Earth. You won't both fit.”  
“Nonsense,” Sendak waved his hand dismissively, “you just need a thorough stretching.”  
“And about a hundred litres of lubricant.”  
“Or, some of _this_.” Haxus brought a bottle and a small box of syringes from his bag. “What's that?” Shiro raised his hands defensively. “Oh, something you've had before. Recall your...loss in the arena.” Haxus swallowed when Sendak sharpened his gaze on him, “w-well, it's a synthetic copy of that.”  
“So you didn't milk it from Nadiva?”  
“Of course not.” Haxus scowled at Shiro as he put it back in his bag. “It's up to the Commander.” They both looked to Sendak, who shrugged his shoulders. “I just want to get home and make him scream. We're wasting time chatting.” He wandered off towards the nearest lift, both Shiro and Haxus groaning in unison. It wasn't the right lift.

 

-

 

After a varga and a half, they finally made it through the door. “Slave, bring drinks. Alcoholic ones.” He drawled, flopping down onto one of the sofas and placing his communicator and tablet on the small table. Haxus stretched and settled opposite, running his hands over the plush material. “I always liked your clan home.”  
“It has it's memories, both good and bad.” Sendak mused, looking at his claws. “Slave, go draw a bath as well.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Yeah, _what?”  
_“Yes, sir,” Shiro growled out as he stormed to the kitchen. He braced the sides of the sink, trying to temper himself, before moving to the small rack under the counter and pulling out the first bottle. He couldn't read any of the names, but it was doubtful it would matter. He grabbed two glasses and made his way back to the room, the two Galra laughing amongst themselves. He placed them down on the table and turned to leave. “Aren't you forgetting something?” Sendak slurred, golden eye trained on Shiro. “Sorry, Commander,” he answered as politely as he could muster as he bent down and poured them both a drink.

 

“You won't partake?” Haxus asked as he took the glass. “That's not for me to decide.” He flicked his eyes to Sendak, who paused for a moment. “You may. It has been a good day.”  
“Thank you, Commander.” Shiro looked at the bottle, today had been the first time he'd drank anything since their flight before Kerberos and for everything that had happened, well, he wasn't sure if Sendak would have any booze left by the end of the evening. “Get a glass.” Sendak waved him off, and Shiro left the room again. He detoured to start running the bath. It would certainly fit them all in with ample room to spare, but gauging how the evening was going, it was unlikely it would be for just cleaning purposes. He sat watching the water fill into the depression. The bath was more like a pool. He turned his attention to the bottles along the side, and pulled himself over, unscrewing the caps and sniffing each bottle. He might as well make it smell nice, at least for him.

 

“He returns. Come, sit,” Sendak patted the seat next to him and Shiro reluctantly settled down beside him, body tense. “Drink.” It was somewhere between an invitation and command, so Shiro poured himself a glass of what ended up being a strange orange liquid. He sniffed it, not entirely certain what he could approximate it to. Regardless, he knocked it back in one and reached for the bottle again. “I think we might need more at this rate. Have you drank much before?”  
“Of course.” Shiro snorted, knocking back a second glass and pouring a third. “I don't know what Galran standards are like, but by Earth standards I could hold my alcohol well. Depended on percentage.”  
“Well what you're drinking now is about fifty-five percent.” Sendak smirked as he watched Shiro's face pale. “You've already had a bit of Nederian vodka, and that's about forty...eight?” He looked at Haxus, who thought for a tick. “No, it's forty-nine.”  
“Well,” Shiro swirled the liquid around in the glass, watching the light reflect on the surface, “I suppose we'll have to see where the night goes.” He downed the third glass and shuddered, blinking his focus back. “It's advisable to _sip_ it. Does your species not know how to temper their intake?” Haxus asked, purposefully taking a sip of his drink. “Some don't.” Shiro hiccuped, frowning as he covered his mouth. “Are you part of that some?”  
“Not usually,” he hiccuped again, earning a loud chuckle from Sendak, who drained his glass.

 

The chatter was meaningless for a few dobosh's, Sendak snaking an arm around Shiro's waist and pulling him onto his lap. He placed his fingers around the back of the collar, letting it slip from Shiro's neck, then proceeded to lick along the nape slowly. The alcohol was relatively fast-acting, or it was the lack of food in his stomach, he didn't know. What Shiro _did_ know was that his body felt a bit heavy and the air touching the wet patch of skin felt nice. “I should...go check the water,” Shiro tried to pull himself away, Sendak growling behind him. “Haxus, would you mind?”  
“Certainly not,” Haxus got to his feet, blinking for a second, before moving away.

 

“Let's take off that armour, hmm?” Sendak purred, hooking his claws between the clasps around his sides. Shiro nodded and worked the other side until the straps were loose. He pulled the chest portion away, Sendak dumping it lazily on the floor. Claws brushed over the scarring and a small approving purr rumbled behind him. Shiro focussed on the floor. “I am very pleased you are training again. I can't wait to see you back in the arena.” Sendak whispered as he tugged at the front of the glorified leather underwear Shiro wore. “Why's that?” He asked, trying to stifle down another hiccup. “I enjoy you fighting, and you will become Champion again. Perhaps one day, you can come out with me to conquer worlds.” He nipped at Shiro's neck, grip on his body becoming more possessive. “Would you like that?”  
“I just want to fight, get stronger.”  
“Would you say you would fight for victory or death?” Sendak's pawing stopped, and he pulled Shiro around to face him. Shiro blinked, confused why exactly this warranted him stopping, albeit a reprieve. “If I die, I can't get stronger, and you don't go in to battle to lose. So yeah, of course victory is what I fight for.” He shrugged, he'd be in no state to help Matt or Sam, or Nadiva now, if he was a corpse, and this question seemed a bit stupid to ask. “I'll put it this way,” Shiro leaned forward, face a few inches from Sendak's, “if I had the opportunity to fight the Galran commander before they abducted us, I'd be happy with either outcomes.” Sendak studied his face for a few ticks, while Shiro kept a sharp gaze trained on those strange eyes.

 

It was without warning. Sendak grabbed Shiro by the back of the head and brought him in for a brutal kiss, the prosthetic pressing their bodies close. Sendak's tongue was overwhelming and just filled Shiro's mouth as it pushed itself inside. He feel it massage his own tongue as it pushed deeper inside, tasting the alcohol alongside his own. Shiro groaned as he braced himself against the top of the sofa, letting Sendak pull his legs apart and settle him over his hips. Sendak pushed him down and at the same time bucked his hips upwards, grinding his bulge for emphasis against his ass. Shiro pulled out of the kiss, panting. “What was that for?”  
“You pleased me,” Sendak purred, kneading his ass cheeks through the leather. Shiro bit the bottom of his lip, feeling the heat pool in his abdomen. He motioned for the glass on the side, and Sendak allowed him up to take a sip.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Haxus was leaning against the doorway, a wide smirk on his eyes, “but the bath is drawn. It is,” he motioned with his hand, “a bit too hot right now, but whatever the slave added to the water, it smells wonderful.”  
“What did you add, slave?” Sendak sat up, unfastening his chest plate. Shiro took another sip, staring at the floor, “I think it was from the green screw-cap bottle.”  
“Oh, that's emollient soak.” Sendak snapped his fingers, “usually I save that.”  
“I'm sorry, I didn't know.” Shiro lowered his head, realising his mistake and recognising the word from somewhere. “We should really teach you how to read at some point.” Sendak muttered, placing the chest plate down. “Ulaz will probably teach him.”  
“True.” Sendak shrugged his shoulders and guided Shiro along after Haxus. “It's fine,” he purred in his ear, “it's actually quite sweet even if it was accidental.” Hearing Sendak use the word 'sweet' was something Shiro didn't expect to come from the Commander's mouth, and as he entered the bathroom, he didn't expect to see a small collection of various toys sat near the side. He swallowed, scratching at his neck awkwardly.

 

Shiro watched the other two strip down and settle on the edge of the depression, Sendak glancing at his arm. “I should change arms. Back in a few ticks.” He turned and left, leaving Haxus alone with Shiro. Haxus watched as Shiro pulled the arm guard down slowly and settled on the ground to unbuckle the thigh-high boots. “You know, slave, you're a lot better now then when you came to us. I'm pleased you're behaving for the Commander.” He lowered a foot in to the water, hissing at the heat. “I guess I had to learn a few things.” Shiro muttered as he leaned back, pushing the boot over the knee. “So long as you keep the Commander happy, I will be happy.” Haxus continued, watching him from the corner of his eyes. “I suspected as much. You're both close, right? He taught you.”  
“Correct.”  
“He's easier to live with. I think,” Shiro paused, unsure himself what he was even saying, “because we've been cohabiting together. He lets me fight, and so long as I'm loyal, he treats me well.”  
“Time helps. He can be grumpy fuck, but he's always there for you so long as you don't abuse that trust. In time, he'll grant you more freedoms, which I'm sure you've noticed?”  
“Yeah. Kaleska and a few other gladiators. That Yastara as well.” He spat the last name, glaring at the ceiling. “Come here,” Shiro looked up from the ground to see Haxus pat the side next to him. “Lemme take the other boot off.” He mumbled, quickly making short work of the buckles and wandering over, forgetting the front of his leather pants were open.

 

He settled next to Haxus, who shifted around and lifted Shiro's prosthetic, studying the metal intently. He let his hand glide up the arm and slowly down over the scarring, tiny smile playing on his lips as he traced Shiro's left nipple. He tugged Shiro into his lap, laying him down over his knees. “The Commander told me there's a bit on your back that makes you body move by itself.” He cracked his fingers and pressed them over Shiro's skin, kneading the skin as he tried to find the sweet spot. _Oh fucking hell that feels good._ He felt his body, already heavy anyway, relax into Haxus's lap. The fingertips pressed a few inches away from his shoulder blades, but the muscles were knotted under the skin. He let out a sharp moan, pushing upwards as invitation for more. “Oh there's another spot?” Haxus chuckled as he massaged it more vigorously. Shiro answered between breathy moans, head rolling towards the door, watching Sendak wander down the hallway towards them through heavy eyes.

 

“Don't put him to sleep.” Sendak smirked as he settled beside Haxus, easing the only protection Shiro's ass had off. “Fine. Up you sit.” Haxus slapped his exposed ass and Shiro crawled off, sitting on his knees. “You have a choice; we fuck you with the toys, or you do it yourself.” Sendak and Haxus watched him, and Shiro cursed for being put on the spot. He wanted neither, but at the same time, the heat in his abdomen had only increased. He knew what was coming as well. Swallowing the burning lump in his throat, he looked into Sendak's eyes. “It's best for you both to since,” he motioned to their cock's, “you have a better idea on space at this point. I'm... **trusting** you,” Shiro stared hard at Sendak, the hint of a dare that if he fucked up, he'd have a difficult slave on his hands again. Sendak considered him for a long moment, before nodding slowly. “Then I appreciate your trust. Here.”

 

Shiro rose and came to settle in Sendak's lap, the Galra gently smoothing his skin as the steam coiled and rose in the air around them. A low purr rumbled in Sendak's chest as he nipped at the skin lightly, Haxus drawing close and grazing his teeth against Shiro's chest. He let out a soft gasp, uncertain which way to lean as he was sandwiched between the two bodies. He rested his hands on Haxus's shoulders, letting his head drop into the crook of his neck until Haxus went lower, hand curling around Shiro's cock and rubbing it slowly in circles. “F-Fuck.” Shiro hissed, tightening his grip in the short fur. Haxus let out a warm chuckle, breath ghosting over Shiro's skin. “Too quick?” Sendak purred, running his hands down Shiro's sides. “N-No,” he gasped, “surprised.”  
“We aren't completely cruel.” Sendak ran his tongue over Shiro's ear, letting his metal fingers tangle in the thick dark hair.

 

Shiro was shifted onto his knees, Haxus still working his cock slowly in his hand and grazing his teeth against his chest. Sendak's presence disappeared for a few ticks, before he felt fingers press against his hole. “Commander, before you do that, may I?”  
“Of course, Lieutenant. Turn.” He tapped Shiro's shoulder, who let out a small moan as the hand pulled away from his cock. He moved around, Sendak placing his hands to his shoulders. He felt Haxus spread his legs, which felt like lead by now, and squeaked when he felt his cheeks spread apart, a tongue flicking over his entrance. He moaned, letting himself fall into Sendak's chest. “Don't lay on me,” he rumbled, lifting Shiro's chin slowly and catching him in another brutal kiss, the teeth biting lightly down over his lips. Shiro did not resist, there was no point. He moaned as Sendak probed his mouth and Haxus his hole, totally lost and warm.

 

It continued for a few dobosh's, the kisses breaking so they could both breathe. A hand – Sendak's – toyed with his cock, and Shiro could feel himself falling further down the rabbit hole of pleasure. He pushed himself forward into the touch, the hands around his ass spreading it further apart as Haxus teased deeper. Shiro's moans and gasps shifted in tempo depending on who was touching what, but it all felt _good_.

 

Haxus pulled himself away, taking a deep breath. He spat at the slave's entrance, massaging it with his fingers as he reached for the first plug – small to test the waters, so to speak. Sendak gave him an approving nod and he went forward, pressing it against the entrance. The slave whined, falling forward but then rearing back. Haxus chuckled as he slowly twisted it in. As soon as it fit all the way in, which was met with no resistance, he turned the vibrating function on. The slave whimpered and dropped his front in Sendak's lap, moaning into the Commander's thighs. “He seems so sensitive. It's been a while?”  
“I haven't touched him for over a phoeb. Outside of making him fuck himself, this is the first time in a while.”  
“Maybe you should make him wait?” Haxus smirked and Sendak snorted. “You know that won't happen.”  
“True.” He reached around and rubbed his fingers against Shiro's taint, pressing the back of his balls as Sendak slowly continued to pump the slave's cock.

 

Shiro whined when the plug was pulled out, but made a louder one when another was placed inside him. He bucked his hips backwards, eyes fluttering closed as he adjusted to the new size. He could still take more. Slowly, he opened his heavy eyes, ignoring the buzzing feeling in his head as he reached for Sendak's cock. He placed it in his mouth, swirling his tongue lazily around the head. “Good boy,” Sendak purred, stroking his hair and slowly balling it in his fist. Shiro hummed in appreciation as his pace increased to what he could focus on.

 

Sendak motioned at the toy two sizes up, this one closer in length and girth as Haxus. It had a small curved massager under the main shaft. Haxus grinned and pulled it over. He rotated the vibrating plug in the slave's ass while he took the lube, slathering plenty on before slowly twisting the second plug out. Haxus slapped the slave's ass, leaving a red handprint, and the slave moaning into his Commander's cock. “Do you like that?” A muffled noise of agreement came from the slave, Sendak chuckling as he kept his head low for a few ticks. Haxus gave the hole another lick and probe, before pushing the new toy in. “This might feel big,” he whispered hoarsely, “but you can take this.” The slave whimpered and braced himself against Sendak, who gently rubbed his scalp. “Slave, you will be fine.” Sendak made a few sharp tugs on the slave's cock, earning more muffled moans and whines.

 

Shiro eased himself back against the toy, feeling something underneath press against his balls. He frowned as he continued pleasing Sendak, until whatever it was came on. The sensations shot through his body. He pulled himself from Sendak's cock, a trail of saliva still connecting the two. “Fuck!” He fell forward, pushing his hips backwards before pulling away, in turn adding more friction against Sendak's strokes. He heard the two Galra chuckle, but he didn't care right now as teeth grazed over his ass cheeks and Sendak pulled him in for another kiss. Arching his back made it feel so much better, but also more sensitive. He bucked his hips backwards, grinding himself down on the toy in Haxus's hand. “You like this?” Sendak's growl was husky in his ear. Shiro could only moan in response, feeling his eyes water and legs turn from lead to jelly.

 

“Shall I use the next one up?”  
“Try the second biggest one.” Sendak hissed as the slave returned to his cock. He didn't need to manage his pace, because the slave was working him with abandon. He clearly needed to supply him with alcohol more frequently if this happened. “L-Let me, please,” the slave turned back to Haxus, eyes heavy, as the other toy was removed. He looked unsteady on his knees as Haxus passed him the toy, thoroughly lubed up. He studied it in his hands, licking his lips, before pushing himself down on his front, keeping his ass raised high. Slowly, he pushed it in, breath hitching in his chest, before groaning into the tiles, back arching and hips raising higher. “You almost have it.” Haxus scratched his cheek, while Sendak kept his attention primarily on the slave. With a final pop, the toy remained in place. “Can you move?” Sendak asked.  
“Yeah.” The slave breathed, slowly shifting himself so he could work himself.

 

Shiro was completely gone. Any rational thought had flown out the window some time ago, and all he wanted was to just feel good. The alcohol had really helped ease his nerves, and as he watched the two Galra behind him, his eyes flicked to the stiff and leaking cocks between them. His eyes rolled back. Fuck, he wanted this hot feeling in his ass gone. It was becoming unbearable. He slowly lowered his hips down and rolled over, hand still keeping the toy in. He hissed as he shifted, and slowly shuffled back towards them. Falling down a little, he landed in Haxus's lap, running his tongue up and down the ridges of his cock. With his spare hand he played with Sendak, rubbing the flat of his thumb over the beads of precum. Through touch, he increased the vibrations in the dildo, loudly moaning around Haxus's length.

 

“I think that's enough time with the toys, otherwise you'll be too tired for us both.” Sendak muttered hoarsely, twisting it slowly and discarding it to the floor. Shiro whined in displeasure, but this was very quickly rectified when Sendak made him rise, and the Commander took him in his mouth. Shiro braced Sendak's shoulders. He was...not expecting that. He felt Haxus behind him, who shifted his leg, holding it up under the knee, as he returned to eating his ass. Since his time knowing either of these two he, really, really didn't expect this, especially from Sendak. Perhaps what he said, about returning the favour of compliance or whatever it was, was actually a good idea? Maybe he'd been too stubborn. _Shiro stop thinking and enjoy it._ Thanks, little voice in his head. He let his eyes roll back and felt his body give. Sendak caught him under the shoulders, chuckling around his dick, and Shiro couldn't take it. “V-vibrations! Close,” he dug his nails into the thick fur, feeling several fingers or a hand or he didn't know what in his ass any more. Sendak shrugged and pushed onwards, teasing his nipples and running his tongue along the underside of Shiro's dick, pressing against the sensitive bit near the base. With a jerk of his hips and something between a shout and a moan, he came hard. His body gave out, and slowly he was brought down to the floor.

 

“You lasted for quite a while, slave.” Sendak purred as he checked the water. “It's almost fine to get in.” He watched as Haxus pulled some towels out and came over, making a nest on the floor. “You play with him first, we are celebrating your freedom from your reassignment.” Sendak pulled himself from the floor, picking up the discarded toys and placing them in the sink, running the tap scalding hot and fishing out the cleaning fluids. He heard Haxus shift and a breathy whine. He watched from the mirror as he pressed the slave's legs against his stomach and eased himself in, a deep moan echoing around the room.

 

The buzzing in his head was effecting his vision. Or the booze. Either way Haxus was inside him, almost balls deep. It felt _wonderful_ to his drunk body; half fuelled from an orgasm high and the other half from being incredibly drunk. He felt Haxus pull out and push back in, taking his wrists and holding them above his head. He cried out in pleasure, pushing himself back, rhythm off as he tried to time the thrusts. He could hear Haxus laugh, it sounded muffled, like someone had shoved cotton wool in his ears. Shiro let his head roll to the side, exposing his neck. “You look exquisite like this,” Haxus muttered, possibly. He felt teeth graze his skin, then plant themselves into his shoulder. Shiro let out a heady moan, panting heavily as he noticed Sendak leaning against the sink, watching with a sly grin on his face.

 

Sendak padded over and settled into the towel nest, noting a few white strands of hair in the slave's fringe. “Are you enjoying yourself?”  
“Yes,” he mewled, pawing at Sendak's thigh. “What do you want?” Sendak posed, rubbing a fingertip along the slave's swollen lips. He made incomprehensible noise and pointed to Sendak's cock, trying to tug his hand free of Haxus's grip. Sendak settled closer and Haxus released his human hand. He watched the slave pull himself towards him and move to his side, letting out a higher wail as Haxus drove himself in deeper. “This is,” Haxus panted, “a great angle.”  
“It seems like it,” Sendak smirked as he teased the slave's hair, growling as he felt teeth press down around his cock between the ridges. It hurt a bit more when he wasn't hard, but at the same time at least the slave was showing a bit of fight. He watched as ran his tongue over the ridges. Sendak tightened his grip and brought him slowly along his length, making a contented growl as the slave took it. He pulled him off, watching the trails of saliva glisten in the light. Gods, this one knew how to put out.

 

“Tag in?”  
“Mmm,” Sendak purred, pulling Shiro off his cock with a wet pop. Shiro whined loudly as Haxus pulled out, tapping his ass in appreciation, he presumed. “Don't worry, you'll be full again soon.” Sendak purred, flipping Shiro to his stomach and drawing his hips up. Shiro felt clawed fingers poke inside, grinding his hips back against them. “Eager, aren't we?”  
“Maybe.” Shiro cast him a sultry look, or tried, he wasn't sure how he managed words right now. Sendak's lips twitched into a small smirk as he watched the fingers pull out, to shortly be replaced with his ridged dick. Shiro let out a long moan, catching in his throat. He pushed his face into the floor, breath hitching as he felt Sendak push himself fully in. He felt the claws trail down his back and a slap on the ass. He bucked his hips backwards, moaning again at the intensity of the feeling. He tried to push himself up to his elbows, but flopped down again. Instead, Haxus lifted him to lean against his chest, slowly stroking Shiro's cock. He buried his face in the sort fur, whining louder as Sendak brought his wrists back and held his arms together. Then he started to thrust.

 

Usually he didn't appreciate the slave shouting or screeching. This, however, was fine. For every scream and deep moan, Sendak picked up the pace, his lips curling back as could feel the warmth in his abdomen grow and coil. He had to tell himself not yet; to be patient. He smacked the slave's ass, earning a low growl. Haxus, at this point receiving oral, looked ready to break himself. “You look content.” Sendak growled. “Yeah just...his mouth is so warm.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Didn't need that stuff, thank fuck.” Sendak grunted his agreement as he released the slave's hands, and slowly pulled himself back out. He whined in protest, bucking his hips backwards with force. “Lay down,” Sendak panted, airing the back of his neck fur. Haxus complied and moaned as Sendak lowered the slave down onto his cock, it going in with complete ease. He leaned the slave forward, Haxus pulling his legs either side of his waist. “It'd be good to try holding him up and doing this.”  
“Maybe later.” Sendak blinked back his focus as he settled between Haxus's thighs, pushing the slave forward so he laid against Haxus's chest. “I'm going to put it in, alright?” The slave made a noise, he presumed, of acceptance. Either way, it was happening. He slowly aimed himself, pressing his cock against the hole and Haxus's cock. His lieutenant moaned loudly as they pressed together, the slave groaning into Haxus's chest and swearing incoherently. With caution, he pushed himself in inch by inch, the two under him moaning at different octaves. He watched their faces contort with a mix of pleasure and pain, licking his lips, this is what he liked to see.

 

Shiro felt full. _Really, really full._ His body was coated in a layer of sweat and he could feel the heat in his face, shoulders, and cock just increase. He dug his fingers into Haxus's toned chest, rubbing his face against the soft fur. He nipped between moans as Sendak started to set a rhythm. He felt hands on his hips and others pulling his ass cheeks open. He groaned, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth as Sendak's pace increased. He could slowly feel Haxus start to shift under him, rocking his hips back and forth at a slower pace. The feeling of the ridges was intense as they rubbed his insides, stirring him up in a way he'd not known was possible. It hurt a bit but, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It was nice, not worrying, just letting them get on with it. He gave his own hips a little buck, hearing the two Galra he was sandwiched between make low growls. His ass was slapped in response, and Shiro moaned into Haxus as both stimulated his prostate. The friction against his cock was getting too much. He was...too close again. “Close,” he managed to get out as his vision blurred and body felt like it was on air.

 

Sendak and Haxus had set a good pace between them. Both were panting and vaguely acknowledged that the slave was close, but they had to work through their own orgasms. “C-Commander, I'm-”  
“Just finish in his ass,” Sendak snarled as he narrowed his eyes in concentration. Haxus cried out, emptying himself. Sendak was a few ticks behind. The slave let out an ear-splitting scream, before flopping down for good, body relaxing out. “He's came on me.”  
“Yeah.” Sendak leaned over his slave, panting and wiping his brow as he tried to regulate his breathing, sweat dripping off his nose. He slowly pulled out, watching the thick mess dribble out of the hole and on to Haxus's cock. As Haxus pulled out, the slave whined and rolled over, hole twitching and come pooling out between his thighs.

 

Sendak dripped his foot in the water. It was a bit cooler then it should have been, but still warm enough. He motioned for Haxus to sit, and his lieutenant slowly pushed himself up, the mess the slave made apparent over his stomach. “Good?” Haxus breathed.  
“Well needed.” He said between pants, shaking the clammy slave. “Did you enjoy it?” The two Galra watched as the slave slowly opened their eyes, blinking hazily at them. “Mmm.” He tried to pick himself up, but faltered. “I like him on drink.”  
“Yeah. He's fucked.” Haxus muttered, shuffling over and rolling the slave towards them. “Shall we bathe your slave?”  
“Can have a go.” Sendak chuckled. Together, they eased the slave up and into the water with them, making sure to keep him sat up. Haxus gave Sendak an affectionate lick and received a nuzzle in return. “We need to do that again.”  
“Always later?”  
“We'd need to use the bottle.”  
“Should be fine, he won't notice if he's out of it.” Sendak took a brush, which Haxus swapped out for a sponge, “you'll rip his skin off.”  
“Fair point.” Slowly, he began to carefully wash the slave down, who occasionally cracked open an eye between longer and longer gaps.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was saying up top, I have a very dark chapter to counterbalance this one but it's trying to work out where to put it. I'm leaning towards chapter 17, which would mean there are two very intense sex chapters back-to-back. I hope you guys will be okay with that?
> 
> It could be argued this chapter doesn't need a check so quickly, depending on how you want to view the matter of consent. I've my own opinion regarding the scene, but I'm keeping that out of the A/N.
> 
> There's a few things I've got going on over the weekend and at work tomorrow and next week. I want to say chapter 17 may be out by Tuesday, but I'm going to say Thursday to be safe.
> 
> Catch you all next chapter :)
> 
> Edit: I didn't know what the date was today, turns out I posted on Shiro's birthday! Whoop whoop! Happy birthday you precious man, you deserve your own show and a million cuddles.


	17. Ramifications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the executive decision to split this in two, because of where it's going. You'll see why at the end of the chapter. I might be being a bit mean by dragging it out, admittedly, but to be honest with you it'd end up super-long if I did.
> 
> Ramifications in this sense reflects an unwelcome consequence regarding an action and/or event, and well, yeah that's that really.
> 
> As a few warnings, it's a heavy emotional time for Shiro this chapter, and there's the briefest implication of incest. If you think it should be tagged, please lemme know. Otherwise I'll leave the warning here. It's not explicit, just a passing comment.
> 
> Unrelated, this weekend I was sat working out my timeline for this fic and then with how I've worked time in this, been slowly gauging what's happening when. So at this point, it's been almost five Earth months that have passed Shiro. By the time he gets to fight for the Champion title, it turns out it'd be just over a year since he'd left Earth. The good thing is, I was expecting this and that's one of the main reasons this is tagged as canon divergence (also I need to have the stockholm get really bad so there's that too).
> 
> I'd finally like to thank you all again for the comments and kudos!

Shiro stirred groggily, rubbing at stinging eyes. His head was pounding and he felt sick. He tried to pick himself up, but flopped back down. He heard a groan next to him, a large purple arm snaking around his waist. “No.”  
“I feel sick.” Shiro rasped, pushing the heavy arm off of him. “Haxus.” Sendak rolled over, cybernetic eye emitting a harsh glow. There was a grunt from the other side of the bed and Shiro turned his head to see another body there, curled around Shiro's shape. He growled, dragging himself down the bed and stumbling over. He rubbed his eyes and tried to steady himself as he wandered through the cold hallways, body aching and stomach churning with every step.

 

He was trying to recall last night. He drank alcohol and Galra come, was fucked a lot by too many different things, and that...was about it. He was wet at one point, in a towel being dried maybe? There was also some pretty vivid and sexually charged dreams. He pulled himself into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He tripped over his own feet, landing hard on his shoulder, his arm luckily out to protect his head from smashing against the floor. He groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and just pulling himself along the floor. It was cold and everything was sore but oh god was it easier than walking. He pulled himself up against the bowl of the toilet, coughing into his hand. In the low light, everything was bathed pinky, he let his eyes drift over the nest of towels and to his thighs, frowning as he traced his fingers along some dark smears. He spread his legs, noting the source of the smears was further round. It was unlikely he'd shit himself, so the only other conclusion was blood. He ran a hand through his hair, frown deepening as he felt the hair stuck together at the back.

 

The bile rose in his throat and he whipped around to vomit into the bowl, grasping the sides and coughing more up. His eyes watered and his throat burned as he sniffed. It was just come and stomach acid. His head pulsed, the pain growing worse. He supported himself against the side of the sink as he pulled himself up, flipping the tap on and lapping at the water. It partially soothed his throat, but something still felt off as he combed through his memories of last night. He steadied himself back to the floor, moving towards the towel nest and settling inside, wrapping them around him like a protective cocoon. His body felt cold; whether or not because he was naked in a bathroom and crawling all over the floor, or had a fever, he didn't know. He let his eyes focus on the mirror in front of him, losing himself to his thoughts.

 

That was it. He shuffled himself in the towels over and slowly rose, craning his neck to check out the source of the blood. _Correct. When did we bleed?_ I don't know. _Because it felt good last night from what we can recall_. I know; It doesn't make sense. It was just once. _Is there any tearing externally?_ Shiro felt along himself, biting his lip as he brushed his fingers over sharp little tears. He winced, falling back to his knees. _Why can't we stand? What's wrong?_ I don't know, it can't be the alcohol any more. _It has to be something else._ Like what? Shiro shook his head, running his hands through his fringe, fingers tangling in a knot of strands stuck together. He shook his head again, starting to ease them apart. It was flaky between his fingers and the taste...was Galran. He narrowed his eyes, processing the snippets of memory again. No one came in his hair last night. Did they fuck near him in bed? He got splash damage? How did he sleep through that?

 

He laid his arms over his thighs, staring down at the stains. His original arm twinged as he relaxed the muscle, and he sighed, bringing it up to study. Shiro worked from the wrist upwards, and at the elbow he paused, squinting through the haze and pained vision at the dark bruise. He pressed a tiny mark in the centre, then again. _That is a fucking syringe mark._ Of what? _Remember what Haxus had?_ It clicked into place; everything. Shiro let his head strike the back of the mirror, slowly striking the back of his skull against it. They said they'd be gentle. _Liars. Why you trusted them I have no idea._ Well what could we have done? It was going to happen anyway! _So would this, just we'd probably be in a tank instead, maybe. Did you even register how they spoke last night? No, of course not, you were too drunk on pleasure._ I need a drink. _You really don't._ I do. _No, you need to make them regret fucking you up. No more, c'mon, Shiro. You think they won't do it again?_ But then what? We'll be dead. _Better off dead then being drugged and fucked._ What about the others? _I'm sure they'll be fine. Do you honestly think they're worried about you, really?_

 

Shiro didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheeks until he felt drip to his chest. He looked at himself in the mirror; new bruises around his hips, scarred, drawn and pale, sat naked in a bunch of towels. He sobbed into the fabric, rubbing his snotty nose over it. _What even are you any more? Just a fucktoy, and what life is that, really?_ Shiro bit into the fabric, sobbing harder. He picked himself up, still unsteady and eyes bleary, and used the wall as support to get to the shower. He needed to be clean. He needed to wash away everything. The filth had accumulated and there was a thick layer of it over his skin. He hammered the panel with his prosthetic and set the water to a higher temperature, pushing himself into the corner of the shower and curling into the fetal position, arms shielding his face as he let the water hammer down against him. The sobs came off rattled, harsh on his chest and throat. Gods, he couldn't even cry properly.

 

-

 

“Hasn't he been gone a while?”  
“Mmm, I suppose so.”  
“Oh fuck, I've got blood on me.” Haxus glanced to Sendak nervously. “Did we remember to clean him off?” Sendak paused, rubbing at his eye. “I'm...not sure. That synthetic stuff is really...bad to come down from.” Sendak pressed his hand over his organic eye, hissing as he turned the light on and placed his feet on the floor. His ears pricked and he frowned through the pain. “Can you hear the shower?”  
“I don't have giant ears,” Haxus rolled over, but still perked up. “Since when can he use that?”  
“He shouldn't. Why has she given him tech that interfaces with ours...?” Sendak was talking to himself by this point, but something in his gut stirred.

 

“Get a body suit on, something's off. He's broken routine, minimum.”  
“You sure it's not the fact you're feeling sick?” Haxus swallowed when Sendak let out a guttural snarl. “Gotcha.” The two quickly threw on their body suits and Sendak fished out a handgun for each of them. “Isn't this a bit too much?”  
“Set it to stun.”  
“I don't remember you being this paranoid in the morning.”  
“I didn't have a military-trained gladiator with a weaponised prosthetic in my house,” Sendak snapped. He hated mornings, and this was another reason to hate them. He felt sick and had a possible shitstorm on his hands. “He can't use the prosthetic with that inhibitor, can he?” Haxus whispered as he flanked Sendak, both carefully moving towards the bathroom. “He shouldn't, but if he can access rooms and the shower then I don't know if he's worked out he can take it off, if he can.” Sendak's voice rasped as he kept close to the wall, handgun trained forward.

 

He placed his hand against the panel, narrowing his eyes as it allowed him in. “Slave, we're coming in,” he roared, coughing as his throat burned. There was no reply. Slowly, they entered to room, guns raised. “He's not in here.” Haxus stated, moving towards the shower and turning it off. The steam hung in the air around them, thick and humid. Sendak paced over to the pile towels, noting the patches of fresh bright red blood. “Where do you think he is?”  
“I don't know.” Sendak paused. There wasn't anywhere particular in the house the slave cared much for, besides the training room, but he wasn't sure now if he could get in there alone or not.

 

Sendak turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor, handgun loosely held in his hand. Haxus followed in hot pursuit. They checked the other bedrooms – where the ghosts slept – which were as empty as they always had been. That cleared the left wing. They made their way to the dining room, Sendak's ears pricking towards the kitchen. He went to open his mouth, but chose not to speak and motioned Haxus to be silent as he slowly approached the doorway. He peered around the room, spotting the frame of his slave, unnaturally small, sat under the table, a bottle of alcohol lazily hung in his hand. He observed him take a sip, staring forlornly at the floor. His slave wasn't an idiot; he must know they were outside the room. He seemed vacant, and Sendak only had one guess why he might. He squinted at the organic hand; bright red and raw-looking. On closer inspection, what skin that was on show was raw and red.

 

“Why?”  
Sendak blinked through the dark spots in his vision. Who was he talking to? “I asked why, Sendak.” The slave turned to look at him, eyes puffy and red, face almost white. “Why what?”  
His stomach churned at the laugh in response. He watched the slave double over, holding his sides. He rolled onto his side, trying to regulate his breathing as he watched Sendak through one wide eye, the other distorted as his skin pulled against the floor. “But _Commander_ , you must know what I, a _lowly and insignificant life-form_ , am thinking? You already have access to everything I've ever done; all my hopes, dreams and fears, and you certainly _enjoy_ reminding me every time I don't meet your expectations. Let me ask you, please, if you will _deem my question worthy,_ what the _fuck_ possessed you to betray my trust? I am _dying_ to hear why.” He pushed himself up and chugged the bottle he'd set down beside him, eyes twitching and a layer of dampness under his forehead.

 

Sendak considered the question and took a step into the room. “GET OUT!” His slave had never raised his voice so angrily since they'd met, and Sendak withdrew, partially through surprise and partially because he needed to diffuse this, whatever _this_ was. He'd read in the file about humans that they could be very emotional, he supposed this is what it meant. “It was not my intent-”  
“Oh _fuck off_ with that bullshit.” The slave glared at him, waving his arms up in frustration. “There's only one reason. You wanted to do what _you_ wanted, as always. In some drunken moment of stupidity I went along with last night, so why...why did you need to inject me? Why didn't you just wake me up? Ask again?” His voice cracked as he punched the floor with the prosthetic hand, then again as he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he stared at the floor. “I just can't keep doing this; I can't handle it.” Grey eyes peeked up at Sendak as the slave pulled the hair away from his face. “I thought I was doing okay, but obviously not. It's not like you care, though? Can Galra be compassionate? You certainly aren't.” He pulled the bottle to his lips, hands shaking as he sipped more alcohol, head twitching to the side.

 

“I chose not to wake you because it was the first time I'd ever seen you so peaceful. You didn't thrash about or talk in your sleep last night.” He settled down on the floor from the doorway, ears pricking as Haxus left him to it. “That sounds like crap. Why should I believe you? You _said_ you'd grant trust and loyalty and shit like that if I gave it to you, and I have. So _why_?” He pleaded, Sendak noting him swallow a few times. He looked away, honestly not certain what possessed him to do it himself. “Originally we – Haxus and I – were going to leave you. We took the...” he wasn't sure what to call the synthetic, “drugs, I guess, and tried keep you out of it. Obviously it didn't.”  
“So what made you both think that fucking a black-out drunk body was a good idea?”  
“Again it-”  
“Stop dodging and answer it, Commander.” The slave's voice took on it's own commanding tone, albeit offset by him swaying and barely able to keep his head straight. “I just enjoy fucking you.” Sendak shrugged his shoulders. “I thought injecting you would make it feel better since you were out.”  
“Or, and tell me if this sounds more believable, you wanted to just wanted to fuck your toy again with your friend or whatever the fuck Haxus is to you, or some utter bullshit reason, 'cause that's all I am, right? To make it easier, you drug me up so it feels 'nice', and I'm supposed to kiss your fuckin' boots and thank you or something because you were kind? You? 'Cause I _clearly_ needed your purple alien dicks! You know I listen, right, to how you talk about me?” The slave crawled out from under the table, taking another swig from the bottle. “So how right was I?”  
“I also said you would be mine in mind, body and soul.” Sendak muttered, “which it seems you forgot. You do remember your place?” He was getting to the end of his patience at this point. The slave was talking to him like an angry lover if anything right now, or at least it's what it felt like.

 

Shiro blinked, cocking his head to one side. “How have I not? I know I'm a slave, I get that.”  
“So what's this been?”  
“It just s-sounds like you want to avoid accountability.” His words slurred, Shiro blinking through the haze. He should stop, this; drinking, but it made him happy. He drank after everything with Adam. He drank a _lot_. The doctors told him to reign it back in with the condition, but why couldn't he indulge himself? Now he didn't have to worry about it, he could drink all he pleased. “I'm held to account over your behaviour when it effects others.” Sendak growled. “Yeah but you alwaaaays ignore Ulaz's recommeendations.”  
“Not always.”  
“S-still did.”  
“Because you needed...” Sendak narrowed his eye at the ground, then the slave, “ _educating_.”  
“That's a s-shitty euphemism for breaking me.” Shiro growled, trying to glare at Sendak but feeling his muscles twitch instead. “I s-swear Haaxus has done a better job of gettin' me to be some bitch then you. If you're so good at this shit, why are we sat here like this?” He slammed his fist into the floor, lips curling back as he loured at Sendak. His face dropped quickly, registering the death glare Sendak was giving him. To say he crossed the line was an understatement; he'd over-shot the line so far that he wondered if this was how he was going to die; sat on an alien's kitchen floor, drunk, in some flimsy body suit. At least then he'd finally be away from all this, all the stress and nightmares.

 

Sendak knocked him back to the floor with his full weight, Shiro not even attempting to defend himself at this point as both hands clasped around his throat. Choked to death? Standard. An intimate way to kill someone. Thought it'd be more interesting. It probably pissed Sendak off more knowing he wasn't attempting to fight back. Ah well, slaves didn't fight back, so he kept saying, implying, whatever. He was just done with all this. He felt light-headed and heard ringing in his ears. Darkness set in around his vision, and he welcomed it with a fervour he'd never imagined.

 

Sendak had been too tempted to snap the little dreck's neck there and then. The smile that tugged at the slave's mouth was infuriating, and it was yet another thing that Sendak had given him that he wanted. Well, thought he had. He'd knocked him out, minimum, for a while. It would be enough time to do what he needed to. He could feel Haxus's presence, and pulled himself up. “Do you have that contact still in the Ragnar ring?”  
“I do.”  
“Tell them I'll be there in two vargas with something to drop off.”  
“Commander, are you-”  
“Not now. I need to see the Emperor. Load it up,” he motioned to the body on the floor, “and make sure it's thoroughly restrained. I also have a job for you, since you're going back to manning the ship.”  
“Am I?”  
“Zarkon spoke to me after a meeting. I meant to tell you sooner.”  
“What's the job?” Haxus swallowed.  
Sendak stared at the slave in abject disgust, and then looked back at Haxus. “Bring me Prisoner 117-9876.”

 

-

 

Zarkon motioned for Sendak to settle in his quarters. It wasn't uncommon for his right-hand to come visit from time-to-time and just talk. “You come looking angry.” He clicked his claws and a servant bustled over, placing some glasses out for both of them and pouring drinks, before bowing and moving away. Sendak lowered his gaze for a long moment, “I wanted to kill him.”  
“Who?”  
“The slave you gifted me. I was...so close to just snapping his neck.”  
“I see. It's not like you to almost circumvent traditions and customs. What about my gift displeased you?”  
“He still refuses to submit properly.”  
“He is stubborn like yourself, and that is why you have him.” Zarkon leaned forward on his elbows, eyes narrowed.  
“We...do share that trait.” Sendak mused, taking a small sip, his head still pulsing with pain. “I don't know why Haggar weaponised him.”  
“She has some plans, as usual.” Zarkon sniffed. “What have you come to ask?”  
“If I can take a few movements off in the Ragnar ring.” He watched Zarkon scrutinise him. “Has it truly been that difficult to break him?”  
“Yes. It's like he finds another resolve from somewhere. It's why I've put in the request for one of his own species. He seems to care about them, so this is the only way I can think of. Emperor, I'm conflicted that I have grown weaker – that I've failed you.” Sendak massaged his brow, glaring hard at the drink in front of him.

 

Zarkon leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “It is a long time. You've also tried a few different tactics I believe?” He watched Sendak nod his head slowly. “Perhaps you have been cohabiting too early. I would not let new concubines into the harem until a deca-phoeb has passed, and I know they are sufficiently under my control. There's nothing wrong with your efforts, it just seems Terrans are quite resilient by nature. It makes me relish in the thought of having my own one day,” he let out a low rumble, and Sendak snorted. “Well you can have him whenever you please.”  
“I am aware, I'm just waiting until he's settled into his role with you. Regardless, outside of you and Gnov, the other members of High Command tend to let others do the work first with breaking their slaves. Ranveig has been renting out the Champion since he's had him out in the Rings. I hear he's rather popular.” Zarkon smirked to himself.  
“You do enjoy Champion in this situation, don't you?”  
“Of course. His faction has caused significant damage to key checkpoints and locations for deca-phoebs. To finally have my enemy in the arena? I am thoroughly enjoying it.”  
“I met one of the survivors in Haggar's labs.”  
“They are an asset to the gene pool, then. Hardy and strong warriors are what we need.”  
“I agree.”  
“Take the leave. I'm going to call a recess to proceedings and call the fleet back. We need to gather intelligence, but I've not felt anything from the other Lions – especially the Black Lion.”  
“Thank you, Sire.” Sendak drained the glass and made to rise.

 

“Commander. I do not see your attempts as weakness. Understand?” Zarkon rose and moved around to Sendak. He placed his hand on his shoulder and motioned his head backwards, “would you like to share a concubine with me? Perhaps calm yourself?” Zarkon's lips tugged into a small smile and Sendak glanced to the side, tiny grin on his face. “Is it worth indulging a failure of a Commander?”  
“I'm indulging a former student.” Zarkon motioned for him to follow.

 

-

 

“S'what can I do for ya, Camannder?” The alien was younger then Sendak had imagined. “What happened to Tarblon?”  
“Wow, ya knew ma great-great-great-great,” he paused, running out of fingers to count on before shrugging, “ma grandfather? Ya're _ancient!_ ” He laughed, before placing his boots on his messy desk, leaning back in his chair as he grinned at Sendak. “Regardless, what's your name, and how did someone so young get to running...this.” Sendak motioned to the floor below them, a large circular room full of scented smoke, gaudy curtains, and other aliens dressed in either nothing, or various silks and see-through fabrics. “Alrigh', Cammander. Name? Ya can call me Hetto. Got this place by givin' ma mather-fuckin' bratha a real nice new smile,” he ran his finger across his throat. “Mather-fuckin' ain't no lie eitha. May've seen a bitta work mayself, gotcha?” Hetto lazily stabbed a knife through the desk with his tail, watching Sendak through hard eyes.

 

“Well, Hetto,” Sendak lifted his gauntlet over his lap, “I'm looking to make you an offer.”  
“Whatcha got ta offer?”  
“How would having the first Terran whore work for you?” He watched Hetto's face light up. He swung his legs off the desk and pulled himself up properly, “what's the catch? Ya knew Tarblon, didja give 'im a slave before, or ya lookin' to?”  
“I did.” Sendak pulled out his tablet and pressed a few buttons, showing Hetto the screen. “All logged, and that's his signature.”  
“Ya I gotcha. So, am I getting this Terran to keep?”  
“Not so much, however,” Sendak leaned forward, “any GAC he makes you in _any_ capacity, well, you can keep the profits. I don't mind how you go about his clientele. I suppose to turn a pretty profit you'd want to have as many customers at a time, but then,” Sendak shrugged, “that's what I'd do.” He observed as Hetto leaned back, contemplating how much he could charge. “Ya know what else we do?”  
“I do.”  
“How long?”  
“I'd say five movements, but if he's not as I want him, well, you'll get him a bit longer.”  
“I get all the profit?”  
“Of course,” Sendak purred, “I couldn't ask you to split it with me. Perhaps you could send me some update videos? I heard you made those.” Hetto flicked his eyes about and pushed himself closer to Sendak, “ya...not tryin' bust my balls are ya? Trap me?”  
“Oh no of course not,” Sendak raised his hand, “it's not in my interests to shut down your _other_ side of the business, much like I never did before.” He placed his hand back in his lap, offering a polite smile to Hetto.

 

“Ta be straight,” Hetto placed his hands out in front of him, “ya gotchaself a slave, ya want me t'whore him out for five movements or maybe longa, an' all ya want is videos back?”  
“Oh, and maybe to watch, just from an overseeing room sometimes.”  
“Ya well tha' can happen. Ya don't wan' no GAC an' I get it, ya?”  
“That's correct.” Sendak waited for Hetto to decide. “Ya, doable. Lemme see this Terran then, ya got 'im 'ere?”  
“I do. Haxus, you want to bring in the merchandise?” Sendak purred, gaze steady on Hetto as they watched, tail raising to rub the underside of his chin. His smile broadened as he took in the Terran, and Sendak grinned at him when Hetto turned back to him, eyes glittering. “Thatsa one tha' killed ol' Myzax! _Dayum_ , gonna make mayself a killin'!” He smacked his hand against his thigh and ripped open a drawer, throwing bits on paper, two communicators and a few wrappers to the floor, until he pulled out a small box. “Dunno if they smoke alrigh' but 'ere,” Hetto pushed them to Sendak, who took out what looked like a Yortorian cigar. He arched his brow at Hetto, who lit it up, taking a drag and exhaling as he made giddy little noises.

 

“He'd got in inhibitor on the right arm as it's weaponised,” Sendak took the lighter and lit the cigar, handing the lighter back to Hetto, “only Galrans can remove it.”  
“Gotcha,” Hetto was scribbling notes down. Sendak reeled off some general information, noting to avoid aliens who could cause corrosive damage, but otherwise broken bones and cuts were fine _if_ they happened accidentally. No mutilation damage was to come to the prosthetic, most of the face, and the genitals, but everything else was fair game. “Ya well if the merch got fucked up, I'd be outta whores, ya?” Hetto scribbled down the last of his notes, taking another glance at the Terran. “Didn't 'e have a callar at one poin'?” Sendak's face turned dark for a tick, before glancing over the the slave; naked and pale, eyes flicking about erratically between himself and Hetto. He turned away. “He did. No point keeping it on him though if he's here.” Sendak shrugged and flicked the cigar. “If I deem him worthy, then perhaps he can have it back. If not, he can stay here and service all sorts of aliens.” Sendak snorted. Hetto sniggering in agreement. “Ahh, Cammander, ya ain't gotta worry 'bout the variety he's gonna be seein'.”  
“Oh, Hetto, I'm not.” Sendak gave his slave a look of pure glee as he took another drag.

 

At the end of the day, it was his own fault for being so stubborn. The slave acted up, whether he believed it or not, and that was perhaps his fault for spoiling him. It wasn't himself that was _weak_ , it was just that this slave was from a very new race in it's galactic infancy, and he was clearly too stupid to understand Galra customs and the way of the universe. If he could, Sendak may have felt a shred of pity for the slave, but then pity wasn't reserved for anything belonging to the servant class. All Sendak wanted to see right now was the realisation his face as it dawned on him how good he'd had it. Sendak had told him he was a liberal commander after he'd beat Myzax, but he never listened.

 

“Ahh, lemme take a looksie,” Hetto stretched and shoved his hands in his pockets as he sauntered over to the slave. He motioned for Haxus to unlock the cuffs and chuckled as the slave tried to shield himself. “Nah, ma muscular GAC-maker, let Hetto have a look at the goods,” he curled his tail around the slave's cock, squeezing tight, and between himself and Haxus, they grabbed an arm each. “Mmm,” Hetto took a look around the back, squeezing the slave's ass cheeks and pulling them open. He drew his tail back, brushing around the entrance and then quickly sliding it inside. Sendak continued smoking as he watched the slave go to yell out, but one look stopped him. The slave let his head drop, likely glaring at the ground. “Real spacious, warm, an' seems pliant.” Hetto pulled his tail out and let it slowly run across the slave's front, before probing down into his mouth. The slave spluttered around the tail, Hetto ignoring the coughs. “He can't 'ave kids, righ'?”  
“No he seems to only have male biology.”  
“Whew, gettin' fed up of the abortion bills I gotta pay out for. Too many 'alf-breeds, amirite?” Hetto laughed mostly to himself at the dig he'd just made. “Body seems in goo' candition, ya wanna brand him with ya clan sigil? Can I pierce 'him, too?”  
“Glad it's in good condition. No – so far – on the sigil, and yes, but only here, and there,” Sendak pointed to the areas and Hetto whooped again.

 

“So how quick do you think you can put him up?”  
“Now,” Hetto pulled out a third communicator and started to take photos of the slave, bending him forwards. “Aww, he's gotta real pauty face, ya? Little Terran and Champion's fundin' a hella great lifestyle,” he chuckled as he uploaded them, taking a drag on the cigar, “anythin' else, Cammander?”  
“I suppose,” Sendak looked to Haxus, and then briefly to the slave who was watching him, trembling like a leaf. “He's best put in a pair of stocks at first, the whore likes it from behind. I suppose make sure he doesn't come back crawling with STDs.”  
“Gotcha. Ganna give this boy a nice setta piercin's an' see what tricks 'e can pull, ya?” Hetto batted his eyes at the slave, who screwed his face up in disgust.

 

Sendak took a few more drags on the cigar as he watched Hetto pace around the room, his tail curling around the communicators he'd thrown on the ground and placing them on the table. “I'll be in contact to arrange anything further.” He added, stubbing it out into the ashtray and rising from his seat, smoothing out the body suit. “Ya tha's fine.” Hetto giggled as he thrust his communicator in front of Sendak's face, “already eight participants!” He whooped again, pushing his puce-coloured hair behind his ear. Sendak glanced at his slave through the corner of his eye; the Terran stiff and unmoving, his mouth opening and closing as if to speak, but knowing what would happen if he did. “Ya gotta go?”  
“Yes, we've things to attend to.” Sendak nodded at Haxus, who grinned at Hetto and waved a goodbye, opening the door for Sendak.

 

“Ya gonna say bye ta ya masta?” The Hetto character shoved Shiro forwards, and he stumbled in front of Sendak. With effort he brought himself to look up at the Commander who towered over him. “Bye, _sir_.” He ground out each word, eyebrows knit together as he glared up at Sendak with as much rage and reproach he could muster. Sendak just stared through him, like he was nothing, and moved on. “Do have fun, slave, and be safe.” The latter sent a frigid chill down his spine, and he was adamant it wasn't the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote Sendak and Zarkon's conversation about 2-3 times because I wasn't convinced it sounded Zarkon-ish enough. I'm still on the fence, like with Shiro's drunken outburst. 
> 
> When Hetto says 'pauty', he's saying 'pouty', as a heads-up.
> 
> I hope you feel sorry for Prisoner 117-9876. I know I do :( 
> 
> At least Shiro might get to see Nadiva...yeaaaaaaaah! -terrible thumbs up- also debating on having Ulaz possibly have to purchase some time with our dear boy. This may or may not happen yet. On to chapter 18!
> 
> This chapter is summarised as: Sendak is a fucking prick.


	18. Brothel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for the comments and kudos! Quick A/N...kinda, since I have work soon.
> 
> Warnings: Major one is that we have heavily implied bestiality in this chapter. It's the aftermath and segmented, staring with: Hetto balled his hand up in Shiro's fringe...  
> Aside from that there's effectively group sessions of varying consents, non-consensual recordings, and non-consensual piercings. He's also made to make porn.
> 
> Chapter is set out more segmented, which is on purpose since it's conveying fragmented bits of time, and seeing how Shiro's coping, or not coping. This chapter covers 2 1/2 movements into his stay at the brothel, and the implication is that he doesn't get....much rest since Hetto has him on a time limit. This chapter is heavy, please take breaks if you need to.
> 
> This was a very...difficult chapter at times. I rewrote the first group scene a few times because I wasn't happy. There're bits that make my skin crawl, and because of length, there's bits of chapter 19 that are looking the same. Nadiva is...probably your only reprieve, if you can call it that.

“Ya gotta name, Terran?” Hetto sat on top of his desk, tail pulling the ashtray close as he took a crumpled box from his shirt pocket, easing out a cigarette and offering one to Shiro. “I...yeah.”  
“They don't ask ya, I know.” Hetto shrugged, lighting the cigarette and taking one out to throw to Shiro. “Calm ya nerves, Terran, ya makin' ma skin itch.” Hetto made a wry smile as he flicked the ash. Shiro nervously looked at the cigarette, not entirely certain what it was even made from. On the other hand, he could have been drinking Galran bleach for all he knew. He heard a soft chirp as Hetto patted the space next to him, lighter in his open palm. What was the use any more? He could piss off this Hetto guy and get royally fucked over, not do that and get fucked over, or maybe if he was _lucky,_ he could somehow survive the time here. He carefully inched closer, Hetto pulling a discarded jacket from the pile in his chair and letting Shiro settle on it.

 

“Shiro.”  
“Kay, may call ya Shira bu' it's ma waya speakin', ya?”  
"It's fine." Shiro played with the lighter, until Hetto took it from his hands and lit it for him.  
“Used ta be in ya bootsies,” Hetto muttered between exhaling, “Galra scum treatin' ya like a glory hole. Got maself outta it by persistin'. Got yaself two choices, way I see it; accept ya lot or not. Gets easia as ya do it more, get yaself more powa dependin' on how good ya are,” he grinned at Shiro, cigarette poking out from the side of his mouth. Shiro listened, taking a drag on the cigarette and exhaling through his nose.  
“I thought I was getting 'better'.”  
“Then whatcha doin' here?” Hetto asked, he flicked the ash again. Shiro weighed up answering, but shook his head.  
“Maybe another time.” Hetto shrugged his shoulders, rubbing Shiro's back with his tail.  
“Best getcha ready soon.”  
“Already?” Shiro coughed, staring in disbelief at Hetto through watering eyes.  
“Ya, first sesh is in...'alf a varga. Ya got eight customers.”  
“B-But that's too much!”  
"Learnin' experience.” Hetto stared at him through narrowed eyes, “ya don't getta take cub-steps in this line'f work. Time's GAC.” He stubbed out his cigarette and waited for Shiro, still nursing his.

 

-

 

“Numbin' spray's all good,” Hetto brought the small spray bottle to Shiro's nipples, giving a few generous sprays, before taking the clamps and aiming the needle at the scarred one. “Tha' one betta stay. Deep breath,” he pushed the needle in, Shiro clenching his jaw at the pain. “Otha now.” He swapped out a new needle and did the same again, this one hurting a bit more. The only piercing that hadn't hurt as much as the dick piercing. He gazed down at the small ring with a bead within the loop. He could imagine what would be attached to that at a later date. “Not fa touchin', gotta cage it up.”  
“Great.” Shiro let his head roll back into the wall, blinking slowly up at the ceiling as he heard Hetto bring something from the drawer. He screwed his eyes closed as he felt the tail lift his cock gently, and then freezing metal against the skin.  
“Cammander says ya difficult, but ya bein' real good f'me, Shiro.” Hetto simpered, dragging his tail slowly along his thigh.

 

-

 

Shiro tried to keep his breathing level as the ticks passed by. He was terrified and under-prepared and felt a fine sheen of sweat over his body, hands clammy against the floor. His ass cheek felt sore where Hetto had shoved a needle in, apparently to keep disease away. The metal collar and chain that ran down his front and clamped around his ankles had him anxious; the chain was short as it joined to a central ring that lay over his stomach. Hetto didn't tell him what they were going to do, and he was partially happy with not knowing, yet afraid that it was going to be worse then Sendak's torture.

 

The metal doors creaked loudly and he took another deep breath, holding it tight in his chest as he raised his head to watch eight aliens enter the room; faces covered by masks likely for anonymity's sake, but chattering and hooting loudly as they slowly approached and surrounded him. He exhaled slowly, feeling his skin flare up in goosebumps and the urge to fight increase. Just tear himself out of the situation, destroy everything in his path and just escape or die trying. Death right now seemed like a great option as he glanced nervously at the clientele.

 

“It's smaller in person.”  
“Has a pretty-lookin' mouth.”  
“Ugh they pierced it.”  
“I like _that_ piercing.” One of the aliens, this with four thin arms, stepped forward and pulled Shiro's face up roughly, two hands holding his face and the other two busy pushing his lips open and hooking into his nose, yanking his head back.  
“Tch, restraints are shit. I'm starting, don't care what you lot do.” He growled at the others and pushed down this trousers, bringing out a cock that looked like a hemipenis, but was just one cock, just with two shafts leading to a single head. He shoved it roughly into Shiro's mouth and started to thrust. “Lick in-between.” Shiro glared in revulsion at him, pressing his teeth down. “Ah! Little whore fuckin' bit me!” The fingers in his nose pulled Shiro's head back uncomfortably, the restraints going taut, as the alien pulled their cock out. “I didn't pay for this!” He snarled as he drew two hands back and with a crack, smacked him across both sides of his face at the same time.

 

“'Least there's some fight! Lemme see if I can calm him down.” Another alien said, pushing the four-armed one away and leaning down. Shiro brought his head back to see three long tentacle arms attached to each shoulder, small suction cups on the underside. _Oh fuck, no._ He struggled as they coiled around him, tightening as his body was lifted and slowly moved back between the group. He felt so many hands brush against his raw skin, the feeling painful if nothing else as fingers and claws dug themselves in. He half-listened to the comments about his scars, his body, but his attention was solely focused on the tentacle alien who was drawing the tips of the tentacles between his legs.

 

Without warning, sharp pain lanced through his insides. He went to scream but it was stifled with the strange cock of the four-armed alien. He felt the chains go taut as his back was forcibly arched and he tried to draw his legs up to give himself some lax around his neck.  
“He's presenting.” The tentacle alien _gurgled_ as it rubbed along Shiro's taint, before sliding in another tentacle. _Should I feel grateful it doesn't hurt as much as it could?_ No, he shouldn't. He tilted his head to the side as he felt something slap into his palm, well both.  
“Use your hands.”  
“We only have a varga!” The second voice rasped. Shiro curled his fingers around both of the dicks and started to build up a rhythm as best he could. He couldn't keep track of where the others had gone; there was still hands burning his skin with their touch. He wished he was sandwiched back between Sendak and Haxus; he'd take that any day over this. He was going to break, _he couldn't break_ , he must be strong, for Matt and Sam. That'd been his reason to keep going, and he'd hung on to it every day, even if he wasn't always thinking about them. He closed his eyes, he was doing this so they wouldn't have to.

 

“It's so squishy in there,” the tentacle alien tittered as they pushed another two inside. They chuckled at the muffled wail Shiro made around the cock that was now hitting the back of his throat. Shiro's eyes stung with tears as he felt the two new tentacles start to build up their own pace; all four moving at different speeds and hitting _too_ many places deeply. It wasn't a matter of feeling full; it felt like his body was going to _break_. A hand compressed down on his gut and Shiro tried to pull away.  
“I can feel them all wiggling about in there.”  
“Come here then,” the tentacle alien muttered, “you can see it.” He felt his legs forced back down to his chest and the tentacles inside start to swell. He tried to scream, move away, but he couldn't.  
“Close...” the alien hissed as they gripped Shiro's thighs tightly, compressing against the muscles hard.

 

It felt like someone had turned a hose on full blast. Shiro could do nothing but make pathetic squeaks, his eyes rolling back into his head as the alien came. It was hot, too hot, everything ached. The tentacles pulled out one-by-one, and he could _hear_ the come splash against the floor. He screwed his eyes shut as those around him laughed, grabbing his ass cheeks and spreading them as far as they could, at a guess staring at the twitching hole. He felt a set of claws dig into the skin.  
“May not want to be fuckin' it in your nasty come, but at least you've opened it up.”  
“I'll put it back on the floor.” The tentacle alien lowered Shiro's body into the hot puddle. He winced at the come that felt like it was pouring from his ass. _It's not forever._

 

“Ok, so you can stop hogging his mouth.”  
“Piss off.” The four-armed alien shoved a smaller one aside. He'd apparently been polite enough to take it out as he moved.  
“Lemme just-”  
Shiro gasped sharply when he felt something new fill him. Claws settled into his hips, and he looked up to see a new alien, skin a deep terracotta colour, let out a pleasant hiss, before he felt his head being pulled back and the thick cock from earlier return.  
“It feels like he's just clenching against me.” Shiro made a throaty noise in protest, earning another smack around the face. The alien over him chuckled, muttering he understood that it was probably a bit embarrassing. He'd make him feel good; they'd _all_ make him feel good. Shiro wanted to be sick.

 

“Drink up.” That was all the warning Shiro had as the alien emptied into his mouth. It tasted sour and bitter as he slowly drank it down, the process harder when he had too much going on around him. As the alien pulled out, they pumped any remaining come onto his face, then wiped it against his cheek. “For biting me, I'm having that ass soon.” He growled, before moving to let another dick push its way into his mouth. He was quickly forced round to his hands and knees. He desperately tried to ignore the pain in his caged erection as best he could as he was spit-roasted. The one at his mouth seemed happy to let another share with him, so like with Sendak and Haxus, he alternated between the two, until they decided they both wanted to see if they could fit in his mouth at the same time: they couldn't. Shiro hissed as he felt the skin around the side of his mouth tear.  
“M-Maybe,” Shiro panted, shakily trying to use their hips for support, “I can try...” he let them support him under his arms as he took both of them in his hands. He swirled his tongue around both strangely tapered heads, before pressing them together and easing his mouth over them both. The aliens above made noises of what he presumed was satisfaction. One tugged at his ear lazily while the other ran their hand through his hair, petting him like an animal. He sobbed as the alien behind him hammered into his ass harder, the pain becoming overwhelming. He tried to pull away, but was held in place. He felt hot tears trickle down his cheeks and claws rip through his skin around the hips.

 

“I-It's too much!” His voice pitched high as he felt the cock stab in to the hilt and swell. The cry caught in his throat as he felt more hot liquid shoot into his ass, and his rear end left to drop to the floor. Those at his face kept his torso up, pushing him back down to continue servicing them both. He tried to look up at them through bleary eyes, their faces obscured through the tears. He let out a pained whine as he felt something barbed push its way inside him, screeching out through the dick in his mouth as it started to roughly move in and out. He felt someone grab his shoulder, yanking his prosthetic around and forcing the grip closed.  
“Put your hands to use, whore.”

 

He looked around to see some long coral-coloured thing and whimpered pathetically. His head got pulled back around and he flinched as ribbons of come squirted over his face, catching in the hair and running down his cheeks, tainting the tears. Then the other in his mouth fired down his throat, the contents burning against the back. He fell down to land awkwardly on his left hand and hacked up the come he couldn't swallow, the action irritating his stomach and he vomited all over the floor; nothing but come and stomach acid again. It was a trend that was becoming common in his life.

 

“That's pretty gross.”  
“Well who knows, Terran's probably get off on that.”  
“No!” Shiro's voice was hoarse as he glared up.  
“You're speaking when you should be sucking.” He went to protest but felt fingers push his mouth open, probing his tongue and teeth. They were pulled out and replaced with another dick. He screwed his eyes up, wondering how many cock's in the last twenty vargas he'd had in his mouth. He felt the tentacles wrap slowly around his body again and stroke along his spine, earning a strangled moan as they pressed against the knotted skin.  
“He likes that, do that more.” Shiro gasped around the cock as the tentacles spread out, pressing and rubbing the skin. _No, no this isn't fair, this isn't right_. _I don't want this, not from them-_ a gratifying moan escaped around the thickness in his mouth, and he felt the tension leave his body.  
“That feels better. He was compressing too much.” The alien behind him breathed as the barb dragged along the abused walls slowly. He made another moan, hips raising by their own volition.

 

It continued until he was dropped to the ground, face a few centimetres away from the vomit, but rear left in the puddle of come. Someone dragged him by the legs, and he choked back a sob as he felt lukewarm come smear up his back and through his hair. Everything hurt, he just wanted this to end now. A body leaned down over his face, and another over his chest. He felt his legs hoisted again and something wide slip inside. Shadows surrounded him and his hands were brought up to caress more dick. He felt his knees made to bend and something forced between each one. At this point there was no guessing what it could be. He screeched out as he felt something else enter his ass. _Oh, the tentacle guy_. One had slipped in around the wide cock. They started to thrust, building a fast rhythm between them. Shiro let his eyes roll back into his head and a hiss escape his lips, until they were once again opened and he had the 'pleasure' of being throat fucked. There was too many bodies; too much heat. He felt like he was being crushed and swamped – everything was too sensitive. Something in the back of his mind felt like it was close to snapping. _Not yet, hold it together._

 

The first to finish was the one fucking his right knee joint. The second was over his prosthetic hand and the third from his human hand. The next erupted hot come down his throat, while the one above his chest sprayed it all over his neck and face. He flinched when it got in his eyes. As he tried to rub it away, the sixth knee fucker came all over his thigh. Slowly they pulled away, content whines and purrs above him. He dared to look down to see the first alien who'd throat fucked him panting away as he drove himself into Shiro's ass.  
“Lift him?”  
“Yeah.” The tentacle alien wrapped the five other appendages around his body and with a wet pop, the cock came out. Shiro was braced against the tentacle alien's chest, the suckers rubbing and toying with his skin, one rubbing his balls slowly. He let out a heady moan, head dropping; the chains a distant rattle as his legs were brought up against his chest. He moaned again when the thickness returned, and his eyes shot open when they both struck his prostate at the same time.

 

His screech was hoarse and broken, and between them, the two aliens fucked even more noises out of him. His body was malleable; like jelly, and so every thrust - every touch - felt like fire against the raw skin, but also like he was going to drown as they stimulated his prostate.  
“This is what I paid for.” One of them said. There was a grunt in response as finally, the wide one shot his load deep into Shiro, the tentacle curling within him, stretching him, and firing another huge burst of come. Shiro's scream echoed around the room, his tongue lolled out as tears streamed down his cheeks. His body twitched as they dropped him to the floor; come staining his thighs and creating a new puddle where he lay. He wasn't fully aware with what was happening above him; just registering jeers and hoots. Shiro's body convulsed as he tried to move away from streams of hot liquid that splashed over his chest and the fresh tears in his hips. It was warm, it stank. Everything hurt. Everything was dark.

 

Shiro let out a primal screech and moved too quickly, pulling something in his shoulder, as he was drenched in freezing water.  
“C'mon. Clean up. You got more clients soon.”  
“I-I c-c-can't.”  
“That's your job, babe. Here's a throat soother, you took a lot of dick.” She pushed the soother into Shiro's mouth and dropped a towel on top of him.  
“C'mon babe, let's give you a shower and clean you out.” She leaned down to release the restraints on his ankles and then the collar, his body frigid to the touch. He tried to stand, but stumbled froward into her bosom.  
“Careful, I don't want to get wet and gross.” She pushed him up and moved away, Shiro stumbling after her, teeth chattering as he tried to warm his body.

 

-

 

This room was plush compared to the previous one. He was placed on top of soft sheets that felt heavenly against his skin. Still naked, he drew them up around him. The woman, he didn't know her name, looked him up and down.  
“I'm thinking I might call you Princess at this rate. Your previous master has clearly spoilt you.” Shiro could detect the disdain in her voice, and bit his lip, looking away from her hard gaze. “You've no idea what it's like living this life.”  
“I don't.” Shiro answered, voice low.  
“You will soon. Oh, Hetto says if you bite another dick again, he'll be dealing with you personally. I suggest you really _don't_.” She gave him a final check over, pushing a few locks of hair behind his ear. “Good luck. You've got four.” She raised her hand in farewell as she went to the door. As she opened it, she offered entrance to four different aliens, one minimum Galran. Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat as they approached, settling around him on the bed and letting hands trawl over his clean skin. He heard the door lock shut, and watched several sets of claws trace along his inner thighs. He was pushed back into the blankets. Shiro was tired, he couldn't fight any more. Maybe tomorrow. Something thick and hot eased into his mouth, he lapped the underside subconsciously.

 

-

 

Shiro flopped into the corner of the mattress against the wall, bringing himself in as small as he could as he closed his eyes. He needed sleep, but at the same time he didn't want to. Too much had happened today. He cracked his eye open carefully as he felt a weight settle next to him on the mattress. In the dim light, an orange eye gleamed down at him: S _endak?_  
“Shiro?” The bass voice reverberated in his ears, and without thinking Shiro grabbed Nadiva's wrist sharply. He looked to Shiro in surprise, but leaned down and moved a little closer. “What're you doing here?”  
“Sendak.”  
“I see.” Nadiva traced the bruises around Shiro's neck, his human hand grabbing his other wrist.  
“Don't.” His whisper was hoarse as he leaned closer. “I've got information.” He mumbled into Nadiva's chest. They laid in silence for a few ticks, bar the light snoring around them from the other occupants, until Nadiva withdrew his hands.  
“Come closer and tell me.” Shiro nodded and curled his arm over Nadiva's waist, lacing the other under his neck. In whispers, Shiro told Nadiva everything that Sendak and Haxus had been talking about, and other snippets of information he'd picked up on and could remember.

 

“Thank you.” Nadiva cautiously brought his hand up and pushed back Shiro's hair, smoothing it gently. “I'll let my contact know, and about your situation-”  
“It'll only be five movements if I behave.” Shiro muttered, shoving his face into Nadiva's chest. He needed to feel warmth, even if it was someone he wasn't completely certain about still; at least Nadiva shown him some semblance of respect and right now he'd take that over being alone.  
“You had many today, didn't you?” Shiro shook his head in agreement.  
“They humiliated you?” Another shake. Shiro felt less tense when Nadiva brought him flush against his body, curling himself protectively around Shiro.  
“While I won't be here all the time,” Nadiva muttered into his hair, “when I am, I will keep you safe at night.” Shiro nuzzled against his chest, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.  
“Thank you,” he planted a small kiss against Nadiva's collarbone, allowing himself to relax. Within a few ticks, he dropped off.

 

-

 

Hetto balled his hand up in Shiro's fringe, lifting his head roughly as the woman behind, Cida, unbuckled the restraints that kept him to the breeding table.  
“Shiro, ya undastand now? Can't keep bitin' custama's, can ya?” He leaned down to peer into what was usually quite pretty grey eyes, these one glassy and dull.  
“Babe, I warned you about this.” Cida berated from behind, giving his ass a firm spank, Shiro's body twitching. “If you don't do your job, you get punished. Hetto, this is why I hate Galran pleasure slaves, fuckin' useless because they're so spoilt.”  
“Cida, I know. But hey, we getta make 'im betta,” Hetto winked at Cida, who rolled her eyes. Turning his attention back to Shiro, Hetto smacked his cheek. “Asked ya a question, Shira.”

 

The smacks had burst his bubble he'd escaped to. He stared at Hetto, who was upside down, for a long moment, before giving a small nod.  
“Ya didn' hear me, didja? What've we learned?” He pushed his tail under Shiro's head, tilting it up.  
“No biting.”  
“Thatsa good boy! Othawise, what 'appens?” His voice was a happy sing-song as he watched Cida plug up his rear. Shiro mumbled something.  
“Didn't catch tha'.”  
“Punishment.”  
“With what?” The pause was beautiful as Shiro sucked in a breath, looking up at him with pleading eyes.  
“Say it.” Hetto rubbed his tail over the swollen and cracked lips, teasing the split corner. Shiro sobbed when the plug was forcibly rotated within him, and after a few ticks, he answered.  
“Y _uppers, sir._ ”  
“That's a good boy,” Cida cooed from behind him. Hetto nodded and turned, glancing up to room where the Commander and Haxus had requested to watch from.  
“Bet ya masta is well pleased with ya.” He laughed as Shiro shrieked as he walked away, tossing a small chip up and down in his hand. This was a little souvenir for the Commander, the fucked up piece of shit.

 

He took the elevator up and sauntered into the room, Haxus giving him a mocking applause.  
“What a _beastly_ show!” Haxus looked to the Commander, who nodded, the tiniest smirk playing at the sides of his lips.  
“It was indeed.”  
“Ya happy, Cammander?” Hetto perched on the table, pulling out a cigarette as he tossed the chip to Sendak, who caught it with ease.  
“Content, for now.”  
“Ya difficult ta please, aintcha?” He watched the Commander give him a broader smile and rose, pocketing the chip safely away.  
“We'll look at coming back next movement. Surprise me with what you do. Only four more left, possibly.” Sendak's laugh was dark as he made for the exit, Haxus waving his farewell again. Hetto looked out the window down at Shiro, body covered in a thick coat of yupper spunk. He exhaled the smoke out, watching him fall to his knees and doubling over.  
“Cammander's real fucked up.”

 

-

 

“Alright, babe, you look into the camera there.” Cida whispered, rotating Shiro's head to the set-up in front of the bed.  
“What's happening?”  
“We're making some movies,” she rubbed his shoulders gently, “well, not with me. We know you can only get it up for dicks.” Shiro ignored her cold laughter as she smoothed her hand through his hair.  
“Hetto has a real nice guy lined up for you, he's got a monster dick. Almost as big as a yupper.” She laughed again as Shiro tensed up under her rough touch. If only he could impale her along his prosthetic, just shutting that voice up, that laughter. “Anyway, little whore, you got some toys here, not like you really need it considerin' your daily schedule, but hey, play with yourself for the camera. Let's make Hetto some nice GAC, alright, babe?”  
“Y-Yeah.”  
“Good boy,” she handed him a large plug and some lube. She was right; it's not like after earlier he needed it.

 

Licking his dry lips, he slowly lathered it up and turned himself around, planting his face into the rough blankets and raising his ass. He angled it right and pushed it in slowly, making sure he made his moans sound needy. Was it bad he was recalling porn he used to watch? He didn't know. Acting was not his strong point, but then would aliens really notice? They didn't know enough about Earthlings, so maybe it was okay?  
“Oh babe, you're doing a good job. Keep going, make it vibrate. Touch yourself some more, let's make people _want_ you.” Cida purred as she snapped a few photos. Shiro turned the plug on, arching his back at the sensations as they shook through his body. At least with himself he could go at whatever pace he liked.

 

After maybe fifteen dobosh's, a large reptilian-looking alien stepped through the door, small sharp horns and spikes around his face, and scales covering most of the body he could see. The alien threw his clothes to the floor off-screen, and Shiro watched as the naked being approached, settling down next to Shiro and brushing his hand away from the different plug in his ass at this point. With ease, he flipped Shiro down to where a slit sat on his body, and pushed Shiro's face to it.  
“Lick.”  
Shiro hummed obediently and ran his tongue over and around the slit, watching between licks as the monster cock revealed itself. It was terrifying; bigger than Sendak's.  
“Oh babe, you're gonna love that in your ass.” Cida chuckled. Shiro blinked up at her, mouth opening and closing as if to protest. He bit his tongue as he took the cock in his hands. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage, but he had to. He licked cautiously; this didn't taste _too_ awful.

 

-

 

Between the wet noises, stifled grunts and soft moans, the bell around his neck jingled with each thrust. Shiro half-watched his reflection in the window as the Galra's sharply ridged cock struck against his prostate. His fingers curled into the sheets and he bucked his hips backwards, moaning hoarsely as sharp claws dragged along his skin.  
“F-fuck,” the Galra, young at a guess since this one had pupils, grunted as he grabbed Shiro's waist and thrust sharply, knocking him back into the mattress. “Can't believe...I get to fuck an ex-Champion.” He panted, biting hard into Shiro's collar bone.  
“Well, now you are,” Shiro managed to purr out.

 

He motioned for the Galra to pause and rotated onto his side as he brought his leg up.  
“You can hit more that way, it'll feel good.” He gazed up under heavy eyes, pushing his hips toward the Galra. They watched him for a few ticks, before licking his lips and thrusting back in. Shiro screamed in pleasure, biting hard into the sheets. He felt a hand on his cock, rubbing the tip and two-movements old piercing. He let out small gaspy moans, spurring the Galra along with flattering remarks. _Please, just one release._ Shiro felt the tell-tale signs that the customer was close. The thrusts were erratic and quick, each one striking his prostate far too nicely. With a growl over a snarl, the Galra emptied themselves into Shiro's ass. He pushed Shiro's leg to the side, so he could look at the ex-Champion, damp and sweaty in the sheets below him. With a claw, he flicked the bell around his neck and flopped down on top of Shiro, his short fur tickled against the skin.  
“I hope all Terran's are like you.”  
“Why's that?”  
“You feel good to fuck.” Red eyes looked down at him, then nipped along his jawline. “If I had the GAC, I'd like to fuck you in some pretty undergarments.”  
Shiro forced a smile and rolled his head back to look out the window, noting his reflection as the Galra brought his clawed hands along his sides. _It's all for the Holts._

 

-

 

“He's taken so much.”  
“Too much if you ask me.”  
“I think it's pretty hot.” The officer hissed as he shot his load down the abused throat. Shiro whined as he pulled away, swiping the come away from his lips and looking around for anyone else who dared think they could exhaust him. He may be panting, and felt ready to keel over, but he could keep going, he _had_ to. He pushed himself back on the lightly barbed dick in his ass, at least focusing on that for now. It was better than thinking about how giddy he felt; how ready he was to collapse to the floor.

 

Hetto studied the scene below, glancing occasionally at the Commander who by all accounts seemed bored. “Prablem, Cammander?”  
“No.”  
“Ya don't look happy.”  
“I was earlier, now he's just a mess.”  
“Regrettin' it?” Hetto lit a cigarette, watching him consider the question.  
“Only the number.”  
“Was pretty high,” Hetto took a long drag, “took more'an I could, ya know?” He exhaled as the Commander rose to stare out the window. Shiro wouldn't see them; he had no idea they were all here.  
“How many are left?”  
“'bout ten.”  
“Then he can finish up once they're done.” He drummed his fingers over the gauntlet, glare fixated on the human below as he took another officer in his mouth.

 

-

 

Shiro balled his fists in the teal strands, back arching against the wall as silvery hands teased his nipples. Nadiva poked the tip and under the piercing with his tongue, making Shiro shiver as he delicately licked his cock.  
“How are you holding up?”  
“Not now, please...”  
“Very well.” Nadiva took Shiro in his mouth, smirking around the cock as Shiro pitched higher, grinding himself further into Nadiva's mouth. He tugged the hair harder, and felt a finger slowly stroke his abused hole.  
“We don't have to do this.”  
“Just fuck me, I want it.”  
“Tell me to stop if it's too much.”  
“Yeah.” Shiro pushed himself back into Nadiva's mouth, the other allowing him to set the pace. It wasn't long until he reached orgasm – it'd been denied so much lately and he had no privacy to do so himself. This whole thing with Nadiva had started from nothing – well, maybe all the hushed conversation at night and curling into each other had something to do with it. Either way; it had to be quick. Nadiva had a client shortly, whereas Shiro had started earlier and was 'free'.

 

Nadiva pushed him into the wall, settling down to run his tongue over his entrance, before carefully easing one of the hemipenes in. Shiro gasped, pushing his hips back. Nadiva chuckled as he pulled Shiro by the knee up, wrapping his leg around his waist and pushing inside. The pace was fast, with Nadiva moaning quietly in his ear. Shiro thrust himself back as quick as he could, biting down on his lip to stifle back the moans. Nadiva pulled out without warning and spun Shiro around. With ease, he lifted him and speared him on the hemipene.  
“I'd rather look at you,” his voice rumbled in Shiro's ear as he ran his tongue down his neck, nipping affectionately at the collar bone.  
“Fuck,” Shiro moaned, bracing himself against Nadiva as he worked his hips back. The two built up a good pace, Nadiva stimulating his prostate in a not-so-painful way that made Shiro feel giddy and helpless.

 

Teeth sank in to Shiro's shoulder, and he felt Nadiva shoot his load up into his ass. They remained in position, until Nadiva slowly planted Shiro's feet back on the floor and gave him a quick kiss, Shiro grabbing his hair and making it deeper.  
“I must go.”  
“Be safe.”  
“Thank you.” Nadiva waved to Shiro and grabbed a towel. He watched him go, scrubbing his face as he turned to clean the evidence away. It ended up being impromptu, his thoughts shifting to the last time he had impromptu shower sex with Sendak. He chewed his lips, both with people who'd raped him. Well, at least Nadiva had apologised and not thrown him in here.

 

“Hey Princess, hurry your ass up. You've got a visitor.” Cida shouted through the water.  
“I don't have any clients!”  
“Oh, this one isn't your client.” Cida laughed and vanished from the entrance. Shiro narrowed his eyes, _who the fuck would be here to see him? Sendak?_ He quickly finished up, moving towards a towel and drying himself down as quick as he could. He'd not been allowed clothes, knowing it was all for the purpose of humiliation. He threw the towel over his head, wringing his hair out and then combing his fingers through it, before leaving the shower.

 

He followed Cida through the halls, rubbing his skin to keep himself warm.  
“Oh babe, you're gonna be so excited to see who it is.” She cooed in that infuriating way. Shiro remained quiet as she ushered him into a lift, certain they'd just passed by one of the rooms he'd spent a fair few nights in since he came here. She bounced on her toes and flicked through her communicator, before shoving Shiro into the wall, raising the camera high to take a few photos of him, pulling his body this way and that.  
“You're so photogenic, although better when you're on film. Such a shame; such a waste,” she tugged at Shiro's cock, rubbing her fingers around the head. Her smile broadened as she dug her nails in. Shiro closed his eyes and averted his gaze to anywhere but her. He hated rough stimuli, but the Galra had gradually eroded that away, like everything else. He tried to push down the heat in his gut, hoping she wouldn't grab at him again.

 

The doors opened and she guided him by his shoulder along a dimly lit corridor that stank of smoke until the stopped in front of a large door.  
“In you go, babe.” She winked at him, pressing her hand to the panel and shoving Shiro through the door. He stumbled into the room, his body heavy from exhaustion.  
“It's a change seeing you in the flesh.”  
Automatically, Shiro dropped to his knees, arm crossed over his chest.  
“Commander.” Shiro held the position rigidly. He heard Sendak rise from the chair he was sat in and could feel sweat at the base of his spine as he listened to each heavy footstep, the clawed tips of the boots clattering against the metal floor.  
“Stand.” Shiro stood.  
“Attention.” He changed position again. Sendak circled around him, examining every aspect of his body; the new bruises, cuts and tears. Content, he returned to his chair and settled again.

 

“Here.” He pointed at the spot between his legs, and Shiro let his feet carry him. He let Sendak push him down by his shoulder and stared up at him like some type of deity, licking his dry lips. Sendak dragged a claw slowly over his mouth and he could feel his body shiver in anticipation. Shiro'd been dreaming more about Sendak. He'd been pining after his touch during the group sessions or with other Galra.  
“Oh? Does that feel good?” Sendak did it again, and Shiro nodded his head in agreement, opening his mouth a tiny bit. Shiro went to open his mouth, but paused.  
“You may speak.”  
“Thank you, Commander,” he licked his lips again, “In answer, yes. I've missed this.”  
“Really? You seem to have been enjoying yourself here from what I've seen.”  
“I...” Shiro knew the remark was cutting, but it didn't matter, “may have enjoyed some bits, but I'm only...accepting my place. I'm nothing of consequence, just an alien whore.” _Please, just put your hands in my hair, rub my jawline. Anything._ Sendak scrutinised him for a few ticks, then slowly trailed his claws over the burn marks. Shiro leaned in again, and Sendak pulled his hand away.  
“What place have you accepted?”  
“I,” Shiro took in a deep breath, “this one; on my knees, for you.” He swallowed, “I was acting above my station, demanded more of you when you are so _good_ to me. Commander, I would be honoured,” he bowed his head low, “if you could forgive my ignorance and hostility; let me please earn back your trust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 19 has started, and hopefully I can get that out pretty soon. Likely not tonight, but maybe Friday? Not sure. I've come down with something - not sure what yet - but feeling a bit rubbish right now.
> 
> So yes I hope...you enjoyed this chapter. Matt will be making his appearance VERY soon.
> 
> This is a very much 'poor Shiro' chapter. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I've been slowly chipping away at his mental state that I think after weeks and months, such an intense shift and the constant 'accept your place/enjoy it' mantra has finally wormed it's way in. Well, mostly. You'll see next chapter haha.  
> I'm even sorrier about Matt.


	19. Unhinged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the comments and kudos! I'm glad to hear from you again! This chapter has mostly gone to plan, but I've been feeling really ill lately and it's taken longer to write then usual (I've been asleep a lot).
> 
> An apology though for what you're about to read, and a MASSIVE prewarning that neither Matt or Shiro are at fault; it's the Galra for orchestrating this entire situation. What's said by both of them is under extreme stress - more so on Shiro because this follows directly after the end of last chapter, and we need to remember that Matt is 18 years old. He's an adult but only by law; he's not got any real way to process this, and we all say stupid things that can get misunderstood. I'm sorry, I really am for hurting the precious boys.
> 
> There's a bit of a much-needed comeuppance though this chapter, which I did enjoy writing. Well, you'll see, it's only brief.

Sendak wanted to take the slave back _now_. He swore to himself he'd give it five movements, but if this was the result after almost three, in retrospect he should have brought him here earlier. That was, of course, in _theory_. He still needed testing. “Forgiveness is a possibility.” He touched the slave's lips again, and slowly eased a finger inside; those grey eyes bright up as he licked and suckled it. “Please, Commander,” the slave whispered between licks, taking Sendak's finger to the knuckle, “let me prove to you I'm worthy of forgiveness.” Sendak snapped his metal claws and the slave stood. He eased his finger out and rubbed it over one of the nipple piercings, pressing the nub down and forcing a sharp moan. “Good boy.” He patted his lap and without hesitation, the slave crawled on top.

 

Shiro was pleased Sendak allowed him this. He didn't know where to put his hands, whether or not the Commander had any preferences presently. Like Sendak could read Shiro's mind, he took his hands and brought them to the bottom of his body suit. “Tell me what you've missed,” Shiro nodded slowly, bowing his head to Sendak again. “There's a lot. I miss waking up next to you, and mornings – showers, making you tea,” Shiro unclipped the suit slowly, “then there's sparring. I think that's my favourite thing.”  
“Anything else?”  
“This,” Shiro ran his hand over down the ridges, stroking the top roughly. “You like it rough.”

 

“I do.” Sendak watched his slave settle back between his legs, running both hands along his length. He twisted one hand at the base and squeezed the head, rubbing his thumb over each spike. Sendak's ears perked up and he arched his back in the seat. It seemed he'd learned something of use here. “Do that again.” He ordered, and the slave complied. He applied his teeth against the ridges, but Sendak would allow that. “You were right to punish me by sending me here. I deserved it.”  
“You did, but like your combat ability, I believe you have the capacity to learn – become _better_.”  
“I want to be, for you.” the slave murmured as he eased Sendak's length into his mouth. He came close to the hilt before he pulled back up, looking up at him through dark eyelashes as he teased the tip with his tongue. Sendak growled, pushing his claws into the slaves hair and forcing him down. The slave made an appreciative groan, digging his teeth into the base as Sendak went to pull him back. This was acceptable; he was still coherent of mind unlike Yastara.

 

The more Shiro got into it, the better it felt. He could feel the warmth pool in his groin and up through his chest. There was no anxiety; no tenseness or pressure. He could enjoy this and not feel bad about it. Sendak and the others had told him to accept it, and finally he understood what they meant. He'd been trying to help him, but Shiro was too stubborn to listen: too stupid. He pulled away, trails of spit connecting his mouth and Sendak's cock. “You were right about so many things. I didn't trust you – too scared.” He confessed. “What did you fear?” Sendak rested his face in his prosthetic hand. “Well take this,” Shiro tugged at Sendak's length roughly, “it's felt really good – you even said if I didn't misbehave or act like a dreck I'd enjoy it more. That's what I was scared of: enjoying it.” He teased Sendak's head again. “You'd see it as ridiculous Earth sentiments; but if I enjoyed it, I was scared I'd stop thinking about those I wanted to protect. I was terrified with how wrong the situation was, but since I've been out here, I've met so many aliens who've been through so much more than me, I realised my thinking was...”  
“Naive? Incorrect?”  
“Yeah.” Shiro felt the hand pull away and looked up to Sendak as he placed it on the arm of his chair.

 

“It seems that your planet's ways of thinking have harmed you. It's a shame,” Sendak leaned over and pulled his slave from the floor, settling him in his lap. He allowed the slave to move his wet cock around to his ass cheeks, slowly grinding against it and making little whines. “I don't know if there's a way to undo all that damage.” Sendak purred as he noticed the slave's cheeks turn redder. “Maybe...” he noted the slave glance to the side, expression that of uncertainty, “tell me if this sounds naïve, but maybe I need...”  
“Need?” Sendak had to keep his tone even.  
“Re-educating? Rebuilding from the ground up-” Sendak forced his head up, leaning in close, “I'm sorry. I asked too much, it was stupid-” He could be quiet now. Sendak pushed his tongue deep into the slave's mouth, holding his head in place as he felt the body in his lap just melt away. Sendak let out a long purr as he moved one of the slave's legs over the side of the chair and pushed his length in, the heady moan spurring him to make sharp thrusts. Others may have touched his slave, but _he_ was the only one who'd make him react this way.

 

-

 

“W-What've you _done_ to him?” Matt couldn't sink any lower then his knees, but he wished the ground would swallow him up as he could only watch Shiro's body slammed onto a desk, legs spread apart and pushed back into again. “We haven't done anything to him.” Haxus, the bastard who'd taken his dad, answered, filing his claws as he lazily watched the video. “How can you sit there doing that?”  
“How can _you_ sit there and not try to stop this, hm? The door's open, you were told you can end it at any time.” Matt heard Haxus move from his position, the footfalls heavy on the ground until he was cast in the Galra's shadow.

 

“You're weak.” Haxus spat. Matt's body tensed, but he stayed rooted to his position in fear. “I don't w-want to die.”  
“I see.” He could _hear_ the smile in Haxus's voice and something dropped even further in his stomach. But what could he do? Really? There was _nothing_. Even if he somehow could overpower the two Galra, receiving no mortal wounds, there was getting out of here alive, getting off the ring in Central Command with fleets of battle cruisers, and he had no idea where Earth was. Fighting was useless, he'd learned that from the two failed mutinies he'd seen take place on the labour planet he was on. Half were shipped to the arena, the others executed by a firing squad.

 

“Is it because,” Matt jerked at the hot breath in his ear as hands massaged his shoulders, “just like me, you _like_ watching it? Perhaps, it's a bit arousing?” Matt grabbed the arm before it made contact with what was between his legs. “N-No! How can you- why would you suggest that?” His voice pitched high as he tore his eyes from the screen, staring fearfully into the gleaming yellow ones. “Well, if you _cared_ about your friend like he does for you, then you'd surely do something. Unless you're more selfish then he is-”  
“Shiro _is not_ selfish! He's the kindest person I know...always there for you, helping others. You don't know him, you don't know how he's been there for me, for his friends-”  
“I know your friend _quite intimately_.” Haxus purred, closing the gap again between their faces. Matt wanted to be sick; he didn't need Haxus to explain – didn't want him to.

 

“You know, it's taken quite a while to get him like that. It's amazing what a few movements and a change of scenery can do. Maybe,” Haxus's continued, “he'd like a friend to play with? It must get quite lonely for him, when he's not fighting or receiving.” Haxus yanked Matt up by the hair and reached for the blaster, holding it lazily in his hand as he steered Matt from the room. “Since your cowardice is making me sick, you're going in. I think it'll be nice for your friend to _finally_ see you.”

 

-

 

“Commander, p-please.” Shiro sunk his canines into his lip as Sendak pulled back, leaving the tip inside, before thrusting roughly back again, hitting his prostate just right. “Look at you, coming undone beneath me,” Sendak's grip around his wrists tightened as he pulled himself back out. Shiro knew Sendak liked this; his lips had tugged upwards when he confessed to Sendak. If he had to; he'd avow all his sins and crimes and seek redemption or retribution, whatever the Commander deemed necessary for his atonement.

 

Shiro ground his hips back against Sendak, eyes fluttering closed as he could feel the base swell. “You're close,” Shiro breathed. Sendak chuckled darkly as he pulled out almost all the way, breaking the rhythm. “Not yet, slave.” He smiled as the tip eased out, leaving Shiro whimpering as Sendak pulled away, gazing at him almost spent on the desk. Neither of them had came yet, and the exhaustion was starting to catch up with Shiro. It was the relief of seeing him, how amazing it felt, the fact he was being so good to him – he didn't deserve it. So even though he _wanted_ Sendak right now, he knew this was the right choice, there was a reason, and so he would blindly accept it for better or worse.

 

The door opened as Sendak lifted the slave from the desk. It seemed Haxus had to bring the Terran instead of what they'd hoped. “At attention, you have a guest,” Sendak let go of the slave, who took his stance on command. “Haxus, let my dear slave see his visitor.”  
“Apologies, Commander, he's been very shy.”  
“Well we can't have that.” Sendak scoffed, returning to his chair and getting comfortable.

 

Shiro's heart felt like it was going to stop as Matt came into the view. Instinctively, he went to cover himself, but stopped mid-way as a warning growl came from his side. “Remain at attention.” Shiro nodded, cheeks burning as Matt received an eyeful of everything. He watched Matt look anywhere but at him. He understood why but it _stung_. “H-Hey.” Matt finally offered, his smile forced. “At ease, you may speak.” Shiro nodded, feeling Matt's gaze on him. “It's been phoebs.” Shiro's face softened as he looked over Matt. His hair was longer then Shiro's by a few inches. He looked drawn, thin. “What've they done to you?” Shiro moved cautiously until he abandoned his reservations, bringing Matt into a tight hug. Shiro felt him hesitate, before raising his arms slowly. “Just regular labour planet things, living in a prison.” He muttered, pulling away and scowling at the two Galra; their expressions impassive.

 

“It's nice that you shown yourself,” Sendak finally offered. He clicked his fingers, and the slave came to his side. The other Terran swallowed, expression somewhere between disgust and pity. He motioned lazily at the floor, and his slave settled at his feet like the very good pet he was being presently. “My slave has been very keen to keep a vow to your kin. Your father, I believe?” He didn't wait for the Terran to respond. “Sadly,” he ran his hand through the slave's hair, earning a small hum, “that vow has caused him to make some very _bad_ decisions, as you can see.” Sendak motioned to his slave, while keeping eye contact with the small human in front of him. “I would like you to explain why, then, you have not gone out of your way to try protect your fellow Terrran?” Sendak's mouth curled into a dark sneer as he balled his fist in the slave's hair.

 

Matt opened and closed his mouth, not certain what the Galra meant by his words. “I-I don't understand.”  
“Really? You had the option to stop what I was doing to my slave _if you so wished_.” Matt swallowed as Shiro gave him a puzzled look. “Lieutenant, I think the human needs to be educated.” Matt backed away as Haxus pulled a device from his pocket, and turned his attention to the screen behind him as it lit up. He heard Shiro make a pathetic squeak, and understood quickly why. “This was the quintant after my slave injured you. He won in the arena, but sadly the new Champion defeated him dishonourably.” The Galra's voice rumbled like thunder. Matt's blood ran cold when he heard choked wheezes behind him, as the Shiro on the screen lay blood-covered and the sword inserted inside. “Do **not** turn away!” Matt shuddered as he watched the rest of it unfold. It kept going, and going.

 

“That isn't the only instance.” The video paused and Matt slowly turned to see Shiro pulled up in the Galra's lap, claws tracing a set of burn marks. “After my Lieutenant let him know about your status, which he traded his sexual servitude for, I may add, he tried to escape. He almost did if he could interface with anything. His actions resulted in the death of an officer, and another being placed in our medical bay. He was likely trying to find you. I needed to punish him. These burns are _your_ fault.” He then lifted the prosthetic arm. “He accepted this to become stronger – to protect those he cares about.” Matt watched Shiro nod slowly, eyes fixated on the screen. “Can you guess who that might be?”  
“M-Myself and my dad.” Matt's throat was dry as he staggered backwards, back hitting the wall as sweat trickled down his neck. Shiro had gone beyond what he should have; he didn't have to do all of this, no one would expect this much of him. “Is your friend correct, slave?”

 

Shiro pulled himself out of his trance as he whipped his head back to Sendak. He'd been half-listening, too caught up in what had been playing in front of him. He'd remembered bits but this, this made his skin crawl. He was fucked by his own sword handle. He looked to his left hand, tracing the spots where the spines had punctured right through. “Slave.” Sendak growled. “Y-Yeah. S-Sorry.” He leaned back into Sendak's armour and looked to Matt, now staring wide-eyed at him. He cocked his head to the side, uncertain why he seemed so surprised. “I made a promise to Sam to keep you safe, and of course I want to see you both free. I'd...do anything to make that a reality, even at the expense of myself.” He forced a smile, but the look on Matt's face said he could see right through it. “I'm your lieutenant and friend, Matt, you're like a brother to me. Of course I'd want to protect you.”

 

“S-Shiro.” Matt croaked, his body sliding down the wall as he shook his head. “Shiro, please, you...you shouldn't carry that burden yourself.”  
“Matt, you're only eighteen, you've only just graduated from the Academy. As your superior officer, I have to protect you. So long as I'm...behaving for the Commander,” Shiro looked to Sendak, who squeezed his waist to continue, “you're safe.”  
“He's taking advantage of you! He's hurt you when you 'misbehaved', but do I look hurt to you?” The corners of Matt's eyes prickled with hot tears as he glared at the Commander. Shiro was released from his grasp and slowly paced over, settling on his knees in front of him. “Matt, you haven't been hurt _because_ I've complied. I may have...fought back, but in the end, the Commander was truthful. Here you are, unharmed and alive.” He ran his human hand over Matt's cheek, eyes soft as he petted the uneven stubble. “Commander Sendak isn't that bad, honestly. He's been...good to me, even if I am here.”  
“Where is here?”  
“It's a,” Shiro bit his lip, “brothel.” Matt's face paled as he repeated the word back. “Why did he send you here?”  
“I was acting petulant, obstinate.” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, “but Commander Sendak may be able to forgive my infractions. I did drunkenly disrespect him in his clan home.”

 

There was too much information to process for Matt. He shook his head, this was wrong. All of this was wrong. The legendary pilot; Takashi Shirogane, knelt naked in front of him covered in scars, bites, bruises and cuts, and spoke like he was defending an abusive partner. “S-Shiro. I'm sorry.”  
“For what?”  
“This. All of this. It's not your fault, it's,” he paused, closing his eyes and opening them, “I know dad cares about you, and I do too, but you shouldn't of...how do I say this? You didn't need to try and protect us at the cost to yourself. You've suffered so much and I...I am so honoured you consider me worthy of protection, but you needed to focus on keeping yourself alive and sane, too. You've done so much, and I don't think I'd have your strength.” Matt brought his shaky hand up to Shiro's human wrist, softly gripping it.

 

The prosthetic hand curled around Matt's forearm, ripping it away and leaving scratches over the skin. “S-Shiro?”  
“What did you say?”  
“W-what?”  
“I _didn't need to try and protect you_? I should have focused on myself? How selfish do you think I am?” Shiro pushed both his hands against the wall, glowering down at Matt, who struggled against the prosthetic weakly. “I-I didn't mean it like that! Shiro, please understand! I'm worried about you, you're not yourself!”  
“What does _that_ mean?” Shiro hissed, muscles burning as he brought Matt's head up with his human hand. “Y-You're talking about Sendak like he's some s-saviour! They're poisoning you, breaking you!” He coughed when Shiro brought the grip tight around his throat. Matt tried to push out with his legs, tears rolling down his cheeks as Shiro's gaze became vacant.

 

“Slave, release.”  
The sharp command shot through Shiro's head. He released Matt and pulled away, drawing both hands to his lap and sat glaring at Matt. “You don't know what you're talking about.”  
“It's as clear as daylight, Shiro.” Matt coughed, hand rubbing his throat but eyes wide. “You've been broken down and manipulated by them, for some messed up game. They don't care about you-”  
“Because you care about me? What did Sendak mean when he said you had the option to stop something? What didn't you stop?” Shiro had to restrain himself from moving forward and gripping Matt again. He couldn't _believe_ how insensitive he'd been; Shiro had gone through so much; too much. He'd been humiliated, raped and tortured and _allowed_ it so they'd be safe. What did it get him? All the times he'd wanted to succumb, all the times he'd wanted to end it. He needed Sendak to re-educate him, it was a shame he couldn't just purge himself of the thinking, start all over again. He shook his head at Matt, “officer, answer me, _now_.”

 

“I-”  
“Your friend has been here before you were taken to see the Commander. As soon as you stepped into this room, he had the option of coming along.” Haxus smirked. It was exciting to see where this was going to go. He watched the slave's eyes narrow and head turn back. “Is that true?”  
“Y-Yeah. I was scared, Shiro, I didn't know – there was nothing I could do!”  
“Except he _could_ watch, and had time to ask me questions.” Haxus's smirk grew wider as he stared at the small human. The slave wasn't facing him, thankfully.

 

“I-I was scared, Shiro.”  
“You were scared.” He repeated. Shiro mouthed the words again and closed his eyes, pulling away from Matt and rising. Matt watched him pace alongside the window, pressing his head to the glass. “Scared.”  
“Y-Yeah.” Matt didn't like this; didn't trust it. This wasn't Shiro. “I w-wasn't strong enough to protect you. I-I'm so sorry.” He sobbed, letting his head drop into his palms.  
“You're sorry?”  
Matt looked up through tear-stained eyes as he felt the cold metal fingers wrap around his throat. He coughed and hacked as he was lifted clean from the floor and slammed into the wall. His head throbbed, and he looked down through blurry vision to see steely grey eyes scowl up at him. “You _think_ saying you're scared is going to make it better? You don't think I've been terrified? I _watched them cut off my own arm,_ murdered innocent aliens...I've lost,” he paused, running his human hand through his hair, “my mind. But _you_ , for all intents and purposes, you've effectively told me you'd sit back and let me be violated because _you're_ scared? What are you scared of?”  
“Death! Never seeing anyone again! I never meant to hurt you – you're misunderstanding-”  
“I understand, Matt.” The edge from Shiro's voice vanished as Matt was dropped to the ground. He grabbed at his throat again, his stomach uneasy as he watched Shiro stagger over to the Galra. He settled between Sendak's legs again and raised his prosthetic arm. Sendak shrugged his shoulders and pressed his fingers to the metal.

 

_Click._

 

Shiro bowed to Sendak and pivoted on the spot, flexing his fingers. He'd give Matt something to be scared about. He felt sick; sick of Matt, himself, this entire situation. He needed to push it down, let it wash over him. He'd be okay, he always wound up in a good place eventually. He pushed down the suffocating feeling, and grabbed the front of the prison garb. He dragged the shrieking human towards the huge window and with as much energy as he could muster, threw him to the floor and drew back the prosthetic arm. It glowed as he shattered the glass, shards raining down to the floor below. It was quite a drop. He cleared a big enough hole in the window and grabbed the material around Matt's neck.

 

“Shiro, don't. Please, please don't do this. Shiro. Shiro? Shiro, no, no!” Matt scrabbled for purchase on something, but his nails squealed against the metal uselessly he was forced head first over the shards. He screamed out in pain as they slit through his skin, and bit-by-bit, he was pushed out the window. He'd die if he hit the ground. He'd never see his mom, dad, or Katie again. “S-Shiro! P-Please!” He cried, tears rolling off his face to hit the floor below. His neck was going to snap- His body was weightless for a split-second and he screeched, closing his eyes.

 

“Did you really think I'd let your fall to your death?” Shiro's voice was distant and cold. Matt couldn't speak as he whimpered, and felt the tightness around his ankles increase and his body lift slowly. He watched the ground drift away, his body racking itself with sharp bursts of terrified laughter as he was yanked through the window. “So did you feel like that?”  
“W-what do you mean?” Matt tried to even his breathing, stop laughing. Why was he doing that at a time like this? What was wrong with him? “When you were watching Sendak and I earlier, is that how you felt? That scared?” Shiro's arm activated again and Matt ceased laughing. He pushed his body close together, eyeing the arm fearfully. “I...”  
“So no.” Shiro sighed, the arm deactivating as he turned on his heel.

 

Sendak watched him settle again between his thighs. He'd _thoroughly_ been enjoying the exchange between the two humans. It was fascinating to see how their mental states were so fragile. It was good intelligence information for when they'd invade Earth, especially if this was the norm for the species under intense mental stressors. “What's wrong?” He let the slave place his face against his palm. “I'm tired, Commander.”  
“You don't want to spend any more time with your friend?”  
“Thank you for bringing him, but no. I'd rather spend what little free time with you.” The slave looked at him through heavy eyelids. Sendak stroked his jawline slowly, smile broadening as he looked over at the shaking human. “What would you have us do with the human?”  
“Whatever you want. I just don't want to see him right now, Commander.”  
“I see.” Sendak pushed himself up from the chair, the slave scooting to the side as he approached the fear-stricken human. He nudged him with the gauntlet, a strangled cry coming from the boy. “Lieutenant, I will leave the human in your capable hands. I shall be taking my leave with the slave.”  
“Is there anything you'd like me to do, Commander?” Haxus stalked over and stood over the body on the floor. “Well as the slave has said, whatever you want. You have free reign to entertain yourself with it. You have the night, after all.” Sendak and Haxus shared a knowing smirk. The human beneath them sobbing as he tried to pull away. Haxus grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him up to his feet. “Then, by your leave, Commander, I will entertain myself.” He pushed the human to the desk, claws tracing over his hips.

 

The click of claws prompted Shiro up, and on burning feet, he came to Sendak's side, eyes noting Matt against the desk Sendak had been fucking him on earlier. It made his stomach knot up but, if Matt couldn't even return the favour on the possibility it was rape, well, why should he care any more? It was karma. “Come along, slave.” Sendak ushered him from the room, Matt's sobs and cries muted as the door closed behind them. “Where're we going, Commander?”  
“I booked a nice room for us tonight on the basis you were good,” Sendak muttered as he guided Shiro through the tight corridors. “You have been better then what I expected.”  
“I'm happy I've pleased you.”  
“You can please me more shortly.” Sendak purred as they reached a flight of stairs. Shiro paused at the bottom, “I'm sorry, Commander, but I don't think I can handle stairs right now.”  
“That's fine,” Sendak hoisted Shiro over his shoulder, rubbing his thigh carefully, “I imagine you're very tired.”  
“Thank you.” Shiro traced his hands down the armour. This reminded him of another time so many phoebs ago.

 

They entered a room that smelt sweet, likely from the incense that burned in small holders. Sendak gently laid him into the soft sheets, and Shiro felt like he could drift off right away. He pulled himself up into the pillows, flopping down and stroking the fabric lazily. From the corner of his eye, he watched Sendak strip out of his armour. “There's liquids on the side. Get yourself a drink, you've been shouting and screaming a lot tonight – your throat must hurt.”  
“T-Thank you, Commander.” Shiro slowly pulled himself up, moving groggily to the edge of the bed and noting the bottles. _Water, thank fuck._ He picked up the jug and poured a full glass, necking it back and grabbing another. It soothed his aching throat. He felt the bed shift next to him and claws rake down his back. “When you're ready, shall we pick back up where we left off?”  
“Please.” Shiro turned, offering him a soft smile and motioning to the glasses. Sendak nodded, and Shiro poured him a drink.

 

-

 

It had been half a movement since Sendak had visited, and Shiro was counting down the quintants until he'd be out of here. Cida was motioning for him to play up for the camera as Hetto fucked him into the mattress, and he mustered a few moans. He just felt empty, and it wasn't down to not seeing Sendak. There was something else; he couldn't place it, but something felt missing - lacking. He moaned, arching his back and biting the sheets with his teeth as Hetto snapped his hips back and forth, the tail whipping his ass cheeks hard. Perhaps it was the lack of training? He was missing it, even if he only had one quintant with the other gladiators. He let his mind gloss over; he'd think about it later.

 

-

 

“I heard you had the other human visit?” Nadiva whispered, rubbing Shiro's back as they laid on the mattress. “Yeah, I did.” Shiro let out a soft hiss as he kneaded a knotted muscle. He had a lot of those lately. “I don't understand why they'd bring him over.”  
“I don't either.”  
“Did you enjoy seeing him? It was the little one you wanted to protect, yes?”  
“Not really. I don't want to talk about it,” Shiro turned his head, “he's not worth it.”  
“Did he betray you?”  
“You could say that.”  
“I saw him; being dragged out by the lanky bastard.”  
“Haxus?”  
“I prefer to call him lanky bastard. The human's suit was torn to ribbons, he was bleeding. I think he must've,” Nadiva paused, “violated your friend.”  
“Oh. That's a shame.” Shiro felt his chest twinge in pain. “You don't sound sincere.”  
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, that's terrible to go through. I bet he was scared.”  
“That sounds less sincere.” Nadiva hissed, pulling Shiro over onto his back. “What happened?”  
“He betrayed me. That's it. No more.” He pushed Nadiva's hand away and rolled over to face the wall again, closing his eyes and praying he could get some sleep. The empty feeling in his chest a dull pain now.

 

-

 

 _What am I living for? What's my purpose? To just entertain?_ Shiro let out a moan as he felt the alien clamp around him, arching it's back. The Galra sat watching seemed pleased, ordering him to fuck her slave. Shiro nodded curtly and grabbed the tiny pair of hips, digging his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises as he pulled out and thrust hard back in. He let his eyes fall closed as he worked up a decent pace – it'd been too long since he was giving and using the muscles again felt draining on top of exhaustion. _Is our purpose to grow stronger? Earn freedom? Can we earn freedom from the Galra? That's something to find out. What about to fight, but then is that not entertainment in of itself?_ He didn't know for certain. _We liked the idea of space exploration...perhaps we can work towards that? If we behave, the Commander might take us out to see new places? It's a possibility._ The alien under him keened, bucking their hips for more. Shiro spanked them, grabbing their thin wrists and pressing them against their back as he hammered inside, earning choked moans from the body underneath him. The Galra purred in the corner, undoing her body suit.

 

-

 

“It's nice having you here,” Thace purred, nuzzling into Ulaz's neck. He chuckled, giving his lover an affectionate lick. “I've enjoyed no interruptions in our quality time.” Ulaz traced his claws over Thace's side, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “Later. I've got to get back to work in a varga.”  
“Well, I'll be here when you return.”  
“It's nice, but are you not worried?”  
“You mean about Shiro?”  
“Yeah. It's just a surprise that Sendak's not demanded you go to his quarters in so long. I mean, I don't agree with what he does, but it's been...four movements now?” Thace stroked Ulaz's cheek. Ulaz pursed his lips as he sat up. He took his communicator from the side and flicked through his messages. “You're right. I mean I told the Commander he needed to let the prosthetic settle and that Shiro needed to focus on getting a full range of movement back for the arena.”

 

“Didn't you say his mental state was a bit questionable?” Thace sat up, the sheets settling around his hips. “Mm,” Ulaz narrowed his eyes as he typed out a message and hit send. “I told him to be careful and not to exacerbate the issue with high-stress situations. He's been through a lot in a short period, and any unnecessary stressors could cause him to spiral or shut down. At least that's my guess, I'm no expert in human mental health.” Ulaz paused as he stared at the screen. He wasn't sure if it was worry from what Thace had said, or something was actually wrong, but something twisted deep in Ulaz's gut that left him feeling anxious.

 

-

 

“Cammander, I gotta say, ya slave's earned me a lotta GAC.” Hetto smirked as he settled on the desk, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag, a big smile on his face as he exhaled. “Itsa shame he's gotta go, ya know?”  
“Well, I am _very_ pleased with your work.” Sendak cocked his head to the side as he watched the woman, Cida, he believed, tie a blindfold around his slave's eyes. His ears twitched in curiosity; he'd not considered sensory deprivation as a possibility. So simple, but such a forgetful means. “How's he been since last movement?”  
“Some days 'e's here, otha days, not so much.” Hetto shrugged as he offered Sendak a cigarette. Sendak waved it away as the woman pulled the chains taut; the slave raised from the floor, arms and legs splayed out. “Danno what ya did ta him, but 'e's been vacant, ya know?”  
“I did what was necessary.”  
“S'long as it was' worth it.” Hetto shrugged his shoulders, face unreadable as he watched from his perch.

 

“Since it's tha las' sesh, decided ta make ma GAC's-worth outta it. Rented tha time outta tha highest bidda, ya? Got q-u-i-t-e an offa tha' I could't rafuse.” Hetto muttered as Cida left Shiro suspended as he looked through the recently replaced glass. He was playing with fire, but this was his domain; the Commander couldn't touch him here. His business was legal, and even then any 'proof' on other matters would lead to implicating the Galran Commander sat in his eyeline, considering what evidence he possessed. He didn't believe for a second a Galra could keep their word, even if he'd explicitly stated so several movements ago.

 

-

 

The restraints bit into his wrists and ankles; it was similar to the first time with Sendak, except he wasn't floating in the air. He didn't like the feeling; he had no awareness of where he was, and all the slight movements his body made in the chains had him worried where he'd end up. Logically it was stupid; he could only remain in one place, but he was quickly losing his sense of bearing; he imagined this would be what it felt like free-floating in space.

 

He heard the heavy doors creak open, and uselessly moved his head from side to side, turning to gain an idea of where the footsteps were. It was a fruitless effort as everything echoed around him. He could pick out the heavy footfalls of boots on metal. Whatever was coming towards him was large to make such a sound. He could feel a shiver run along his spine; the first one in a while that filled his bones with dread. Was it because he couldn't see? Perhaps. He could hear the hum of the recording drone around him. He'd started to notice it during certain sessions. Always once a quintant. The footsteps came to a halt and his body tensed. For dobosh's he could hear nothing but the sound of breathing and his own heartbeat. The silence was deafening.

 

“Sendak is a fuckin' dreck if he thought this wouldn't happen.” Shiro's head bolted up, trying to pinpoint the location of the voice. That weird accent; he knew it but couldn't place it. “Leavin' you here without your collar? Oh, you must have pissed him off somethin' fierce if he's abandoned you to this place. Tell me, whore, what _did_ you do?” He felt large sharp claws grip his chin and tilt it up roughly, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “Talk, that's an order.” Shiro swallowed and licked his dry lips. “I wrongly called his abilities into question.”  
“Which means what?” Shiro wasn't expecting a punch to the gut. He bit his tongue as he screamed, likely hacking spit and blood to the floor. “J-Just as I said!”  
“For a whore like you to call him into question, he really has grown soft and weak! Here was me thinkin' he'd tired of his fuck hole, but _you_ , a _human_ , managed to upset him? It's like my day's gettin' better and better.” The Galra laughed, painfully squeezing his face. “Oh, whore, you'd be better with a new master. If I kept you, you could be an excellent bed warmer for Champion.”

 

“Y-You're Ranveig-” another gut punch. “C-Commander...Ranveig.” Shiro corrected himself as he coughed again, the chains rattling overhead. “Commander or Warlord. Unlike Sendak, I'm known for my skills in battle. _He_ is nothing more than a glorified bed warmer for the Emperor.” Ranveig spat, dragging his claws over Shiro's shoulder. Shiro tried to suppress a hiss, dropping his head low as the claws pulled away from his ass cheeks. He could feel the drag marks burn against his flesh. “He's never had to earn anything in his life.” Ranveig snarled, punching Shiro's side hard. He let out a sharp scream, body swinging like a ragdoll in the restraints. “He just _received_ you for no reason from the Emperor and swans about the place so self-important.” Shiro yelped when his thigh was grabbed, the skin and muscles twisted in opposing directions sharply. For all of Ranveig's bitching, he sounded jealous more than anything else.

 

“That doesn't sound like the Commander I know.” Shiro muttered hoarsely, regretting his decision immediately. His loyalty lay with Sendak only; and this Galra was one that he hated. He could see why. “And what do you know?”  
“I saw him most days, before I was here. You just don't know hi-” he screamed as a fist connected with the side of his jaw, the bone shattering on impact. Shiro spat and coughed blood, tears streaming down his face. “That dreck and I have more history then you could _imagine_. Did he ever tell you how he lost his arm?” He pulled Shiro up by his hair, not that he could see him through the blindfold. “He lost it to _me_.”

 

-

 

“Ya don't seem pleased, Cammander.” Hetto was having to stifle back a laugh as he watched the Galran's fur bristle out. He may be silent, but the fluffy sub-species was the easiest to read. “Ya probably shouldn't 'ave said to saprise ya,” he wandered over and stood next to the chair, toying with the knife lazily in his tail, “'cause eventually ya gonna get a nasty shock.”  
“It sounds as if you intended this to happen.”  
“Can't see tha future.” Hetto replied, watching the Galran's rigid posture in the glass, eyes drifting to Cida and one his body guards stood behind them both, blasters trained on their guest. “I see.” He growled, prosthetic claws digging through the metal side of the chair.

 

-

 

“If you were breedable I'd get more enjoyment out of doin' this to you.” Ranveig was somewhere, but Shiro didn't know where. All he could muster was pathetic whines and sobs as his body ached from the abuse and from the chains cutting deep into his skin. “See, at least I could pretend that Champion was breedable the few times I've fucked it, but between you and me, I don't find this attractive.” He tugged Shiro's cock for emphasis. _So he was behind him_. “Havin' said that, the idea of fuckin' up Sendak's little toy is even more arousin'.” Shiro made a panicked noise in his throat when he felt a large hand smack and grab his hip, dragging him in the chains against something hard and extra spiky. “I really hope you **don't** enjoy it.” Ranveig snarled, as he clapped his other hand on Shiro's hip and forced him against the tip. The noise that escaped his, he presumed, bloody lips, didn't sound like it belonged to him. He felt every barbed ridge of Ranveig push dry and slow against his unprepared walls. He could feel it sting, burn, and tear.

 

Ranveig was punishingly fast and rough. Shiro heard the chains rattle and metal ping, his arms becoming lax and front falling forward. His front was grabbed and he was pulled up, the barbed cock pushing sharper into his body. “I could shatter both these arms of yours,” he muttered, Shiro feeling rough patches of fur against his shoulder blades. He couldn't speak, but made some garbled noise of protest as best he could. Ranveig dug his claws and teeth in, both of them breaking the skin.

 

“So quiet and well-behaved.” The purr was venomous, and he felt a hand snake round his front. Shiro screwed his eyes shut as the claws pinched at his balls. He could feel them cut through the sensitive skin and he let out a screech, blood gargling in his throat as he hacked it out. He could feel Ranveig start to swell inside him, he didn't want this, not him. His attempts to pull away were unsuccessful, and Ranveig brought him in to a crushing embrace as he emptied himself into Shiro's abused body. It felt hot and gross.

 

With a semi-content sigh, his body was dropped forward suddenly, his ankles the only things supported in the air. Shiro cried as he pawed for the ground, fingers finding no purchase. He heard a laugh from above, then another clink of metal. One of his legs dropped down, the other still suspended, and Shiro's shoulder hit the ground hard. “Enjoy my seed deep within you.” Shiro felt his leg shifted and something slipping into his hole. He whimpered, realising Ranveig had pushed a plug inside.

 

-

 

Sendak cracked his knuckles and rose from his seat. Before Hetto could so much as catch his breath, Sendak had him by the throat. He threw his body to the ground, watching the two peasants skid down beside him, forgetting that they were supposed to be protecting the dreck. His lips curled into a feral snarl as he grabbed the first body guard – the largest one, reptilian-looking and with a few spikes. The prosthetic claws reached around his face, their magenta glow kicking in as they seared burns through the scales. He dragged his claws together over the mouth and eyes, earning screams and shrieks of agony. He smashed his fist over the side of alien's face, and with his prosthetic hand, threw him over his shoulder. There was a loud smash and a crunch behind him. He'd finish that one soon. These two, Cida and Hetto, he had plans there.

 

Sendak caught her round the face with his clawed boots, the points pushing into her cheek. She yelled up at him, grabbing at his foot. Hetto tried to assist her, but he was no fighter. Sendak grabbed his tail, giving it a sharp tug, and dragged him over to the blasters he'd managed to kick away. Hetto was a good enough meat shield at this point. He bent down and set the one to stun, and fired it against the base of Hetto's skull. The man shrieked and convulsed underneath him, limbs twitching as the paralysis set in. He raised it and shot at the woman, her scream melodic to his ears. He moved back to the body on the floor, the reptilian alien trying to push himself back up. Sendak reset the blaster and jabbed it into the aliens mouth, canines bared in a murderous smirk as he pressed the trigger. He died with his eyes wide, pupils dilated in fear. The sniffles and whines of the paralysed were so feeble, pathetic. He lifted the corpse by the leg, using it to smash the window. He dropped it over the precipice, watching it hit the ground with a dull thud. He crushed the blaster in his prosthetic and threw it away, turning his attention to the remaining two. “You made the mistake of pissing off the wrong Commander.” He grabbed Hetto by the tail and Cida by the back of the hair, dragging them from the room.

 

Shiro struggled in his single bond; the skin around his ankle felt shredded. Wait, he had hands. He ripped the blindfold away, hissing at the light and closing them right away. It took a few dobosh's, but as he cracked open his eyes slowly, he heard the metal door whine open again. He struggled around, squinting at an orange glow. _Please, not him again_. His painful body tensed, only to soften for a moment until he saw the vicious look on Sendak's face. _He's going to kill me, I'm dead, dead, dead._ Shiro scrabbled against the metal floor, his filthy broken nails finding no purchase. It wasn't like he could get away with one leg still in the air.

 

Sendak came to a stop in front of his slave. He dropped Hetto to the floor and reached for the chain, cutting the links like butter with his metal claws. “Which one?” Sendak threw Cida to the floor and brought the gauntlet down, eyes trained on his slave. He watched him look between the two drecks, before pointing reluctantly to Hetto. He let out a thunderous roar and grabbed Cida with this regular arm, tossing her into the air with ease. He focused on his prosthetic and aimed his punch at her, the arm extending out, hand piercing through the soft flesh. Her departing scream was sharp and hurt his ears, but that was one more gone.

 

Shiro watched him flick the body from his hand like it was nothing, claws dripping blood. He'd have swallowed if he could. “He was going to try and keep you.” Sendak crouched down, smoothing his hair. “This is why we can't trust lesser species.” He gave him a small lick before turning his attention back to Hetto. Shiro tensed as Sendak kicked him over between the ribs with the clawed boot tips. He knew how much that hurt. “He was also foolish enough to think he could try to kill me.” _That_ had Shiro rasp, trying to pull himself towards Sendak. Hetto wasn't exactly a good person, but he wasn't a complete monster either. Having said that, he wasn't a saint himself. “Would you like me to end his miserable life, or would you like to help?” Shiro blinked slowly, looking between Sendak and Hetto.

 

He held out his prosthetic. Monster or not, he'd swore himself to the Commander. What would it say about him if he refused him? Sendak was also...terrifying. He couldn't remember if he'd seen him murder someone before in such a violent way. Torture, yes. Sendak let out a strange purr and scooped Shiro up in his arms, nuzzling his face as he released the inhibitor. Sendak placed him on top of Hetto and settled with his organic hand compressing his neck. “Do you recall what I told you about how Galra fight?” Shiro nodded.  
“What would be the quickest way to kill him?” Shiro ignored the squeak as he placed his hand over Hetto's chest, working out where the heartbeat felt strongest. He tapped a point on the left-hand side of his chest. “Good boy. You know what to do.” Sendak watched as his arm lit up. Shiro cocked his head to the side, watching the twitching eyes. It was just like the arena. With a quick and clean movement, he stabbed through body. His hand was stuck on something, and he tried to wiggle it free. “Wait,” Sendak helped ease it out, the two admiring the gore that covered the metal.  
“Let's get you back to Central Command.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, again, Matt and Shiro are victims in all this. Sendak and Haxus? Nope. Again, a reminder that even if Sendak acts soft with Shiro, it's going to be calculated behaviour to get what he wants, and we all know that is to break this man down to nothing and rebuild. Which is actually the part of the story we're really getting to now! I've tried to be really mindful of the mental states everyone must be in, and some strange outbursts, on the surface is...strange. I've seen a lot of different coping and reactionary responses to things from people I know, and although some may be based on my own reactions, it's pulling that and trying to make it make sense in relation to the piece.
> 
> For you Ulaz lovers, we have our dear friendly Galra returning! And....he is going to be very upset with Sendak, and Shiro's going to need plenty of attention.  
> Chapter 20 has been started, but right now I'm still feeling the ill effects, so it may take me a tad to write. I look forward to hearing from you all! If you have any questions, by the way, please do ask me.


	20. Bolster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know after four relatively heavy chapters, this one is really needed. I think that's why it came out really quickly, because I needed to write something nice. It may be a bit bittersweet in places, but overall the tone is a good one for the most part.
> 
> I had to strip away about two pages of this because I had a lot of ideas, and we were going to see Sendak reveal his plans for Shiro, however because it follows another rather important point, I've retracted it from the chapter for later. 
> 
> I'm pleased with this one, and hope that you enjoy it.
> 
> Thank you again for the comments and kudos!

Ulaz chewed his claws as his eyes darted around, looking for the shuttle. Thace was right, it'd all been too quiet. He should have known; should have clicked something was amiss. He was stupid; so, so stupid. He craned his neck as he watched another shuttle dock, noting the guards moving over towards the doors. He narrowed his eyes, moving carefully through the bustling hangar. He muttered apologies as he squeezed between other bodies, until he found himself at the foot of the ramp leading up to the shuttle. Sendak was there, talking quickly to some guards and motioning to the bundle he held tightly in his prosthetic. The blankets were patchy with blood, it was likely Shiro.

 

“Commander!” Ulaz shouted as he stalked his way up the ramp. Sendak twisted his head around, gaze dark as he caught sight of the medical officer. “Speak to me with _respect_ , Officer.” Sendak snarled as he eased Shiro down to the floor. “The worst he has is a few broken ribs and a broken jaw. He'll need a tank. I need to talk to the Military Police about what's happened. Message me your location.” He stalked away, following the two officers towards their offices on the far side of the hangar. Ulaz stared after him, unblinking. He exhaled slowly and brought his attention down to the collection of blankets, his pale feet filthy and torn. Ulaz felt pity well up in his stomach as he took Shiro by the hand and made a path for them along the edge of the hangar, moving slowly for him.

 

Outside the busy hangar, he pulled Shiro to a small seated area that thankfully wasn't as packed as usual. It overlooked one of the gas planets out in the system. Ulaz slowly pulled down the makeshift hood to take a look at the human, letting out a sharp hiss as he covered his neck quickly. Shiro whimpered, pulling himself inwards. “It's not you,” Ulaz hushed him quietly, “I've just noticed you don't have your collar. It makes this a bit more difficult.” He looked around, keeping his eyes peeled for any Galra who seemed a little too curious about the collection of bloody blankets he was sat with. “Here, let me carry you.” He smiled softly as he scooped Shiro into his arms and carried him bridal style through the halls. He was lighter then he remembered, but he shouldn't be carrying him like this at all. He'd have to take him to the Druid's labs.

 

Upon reaching the labs, he set Shiro down to take a quick rest. It wasn't even a full dobosh before he felt the tell-tale sign of a druid – a sense of innate fear bubbling up inside his body. He stiffened his position, turning to greet it. “I only look to heal him for Commander Sendak at his request. I presume it is still satisfactory to use the room I have been allocated?” He watched the druid move towards Shiro, pulling the blankets back and moving his head to the sides. “Where is the collar it had?”  
“I do not know. He's returned with the Commander in this state.”  
“You may use the lab. I will let the High Priestess know you are here.”  
“I don't think that's necessa-”  
“All information about who comes in and out is now relayed to the High Priestess due to the previous incident.” The druid pulled away from Shiro, and Ulaz realised the implication. So long as he was left alone to heal him, he didn't care. “I will assign you Officer Hepta. We are increasing his responsibilities.”  
“Thank you.” Ulaz watched the druid move away, pinching the bridge of his nose, he didn't need any strangers around him.

 

-

 

Sendak rubbed his eyes as he stalked down the corridors, his only focus getting to the labs where his slave was healing. It had taken a few vargas to go over what had transpired. Although he knew he would be fine, it was still always an unnecessary stressor. He turned down a familiar corridor and entered through the doors to find Ulaz stood, arms crossed over his chest, with the High Priestess beside him. Neither looked in a good mood.

 

“A word, Commander Sendak.” Haggar motioned for the two Galra to follow her. She made her way down the hallways she had called home for millennia, stopping at a door. As it swished open, she noted the officer diligently keeping watch over the array of equipment. “You are relieved of your duties for the next two vargas, Officer Hepta.” Haggar waved her hand for him to leave, and Hepta scurried out, casting curious glances at the three. As the door shut behind him, Haggar raised her head to cast her cold gaze over the Commander stood in front of her. “Tell me what happened to him. I will know if you lie.”

 

Sendak considered her for a moment. He wouldn't lie to her, but with Ulaz's sharp eyes trained on him, he was not looking forward to his lecturing later. Taking a deep breath, he explained the events of the last five moments. Ulaz would swear on occasions and Haggar would give him a look of pure derision at the unsavoury parts. He had to admit, talking about some bits was harder to do then he'd first imagined. In hindsight, he was never planning on recounting the events to anyone bar the slave himself.

 

“I explicitly told you not to exacerbate him!” Ulaz snarled, canines on display as he stormed up to Sendak. “You and the Emperor want him in the arena, but now you go and do this? Do you know how much quintessence I need to heal the physical damage?” He defiantly pushed his face close.  
“A lot, I presume?”  
“Yes.” Haggar answered instead. “The amount will be subtracted from your subsequent salary. I pray you have savings.” She nodded for Ulaz to continue. “Even after the physical damage, I need to check his mental state, and I won't lie, I don't know enough about human brains to grasp how he's going to cope!”  
“Why does it matter how or if he's going to cope when I'm breaking him anyway for repurposing?”  
“Do you want a slave like Yastara, devoid of a personality, or dead?” Ulaz countered. Sendak's face turned sour at the reminder and he grabbed Ulaz by his armour. “Mind your place.” He growled out.

 

“Hold on.” Haggar paused. She moved to the terminal, her clawed hands swiping through his file and scanning the notes. She brought up a secondary screen and tapped the display quickly with one hand. The two Galra watched her as her gaze flicked between the screens, and knew that she was working something out. Silence was what she needed, and what they would respectfully give her.

 

After almost a varga, she turned from the screens. “I have a way we can all get what we want.” Her glowing yellow eyes somehow looked dark in the light. “I want more data on his kind,” she waved her hand at the slave in the tank. “I have kept his arm as a biological sample, although I also want to draw live samples from him. He could be a mutant of his species, at least compared to the other two. Then there's measuring his physical limits. You will have him healed to peak condition, however I want data on his combat limits only, not how much he can take in your chambers.” Her remark clearly made Sendak uneasy, but she didn't particularly care, she was getting to start a new project, and this one had come at perfect timing.

 

“Medical Officer Ulaz is also correct. While for a Galra soldier we would purge the mind, he is not. His mental state will be monitored, and no more purges will be granted. However, I've been running through the information gathered from our intelligence stations – the one near his home planet has picked up a substantive amount – some relating to medical pieces about the human mind judging by images. Your jobs, along with Officer Hepta, is to go through it and select what is useful. Commander, I also believe you have been sent a full copy of your slave's personal data that has been mined from Earth's servers and data banks? I think I saw something like medical notes in a language I couldn't read.” She flicked back through the images, pausing as she tapped the screen.

 

Sendak brought out his tablet and flicked through. “It was sent it, yes.”  
“Have you done much reading about his species?”  
“Only about their history and bits about him.”  
“Read more, and send me the information. To summarise: the Commander gets him fighting, Officer Ulaz gets to keep an eye on his mental state, although I expect you to take notice,” she glared hard at Sendak, “and I get my samples and data to see what other uses he may have. After that, I could even get more samples from the other humans. Is this acceptable?” They both agreed, because neither could say no to the High Priestess. Sendak hadn't had chance to re-collar his slave, so even if he did object, he couldn't do anything to stop her. “You both please me. Then, get to trawling the data. I will send Officer Hepta back in. Medical Officer Ulaz, you will take the lead as his healer.” With that, she nodded at the two and moved to leave. “As a final note, bar yourself, Commander, the other two will be receiving additional pay. I will leave that in your capable hands to sort out.” With that, she exited the room.

 

“I hope you're happy with yourself.” Ulaz moved to the terminal, pressing a few buttons and pausing as he considered what to type in. “He's my slave and I can punish him as I see fit.” Sendak growled, settling against the tank. “But I have to fix him up.” Ulaz retorted, glancing over the top of the displays. “I can find a new medical officer if you're going to be like that.”  
“One that your slave trusts, though? I've built up a very strong rapport with him since he's been in my care.” Ulaz finally knew what words he was looking for and left the displays to run their filters as he stormed over to Sendak. “If you want to reassign me, go right ahead. But I sincerely wish you luck in finding a medical officer who won't quit every-other phoeb for the amount of work he needs.”  
“What're you saying?”  
“You know precisely what I mean. You push him too much. He has limits, and when you eventually push just a _bit_ too far, what do you think will happen?” Ulaz arched his eyebrow as the Commander looked away. “Exactly. Don't keep ignoring my reports. I'm trying to save _you_ hassle and problems.”  
“I don't think I'll be having behavioural ones any more.” Sendak smirked at the floor, and Ulaz didn't need to ask any further questions. He didn't want to know.

 

“Keep your job. You know I'm not in the best moods right now. Like you.” Sendak finally admitted, rubbing his eyes again. “I had some of the peasantry decide they were going to try and keep him, so I disposed of them. If you must know, that damage is from Ranveig, not me for once.”  
“I was surprised you even bundled him up and applied basic medical care.”  
“I'm not a complete monster.” Sendak's gaze hardened, “he killed one of them.”  
“But you must of allowed it?” Ulaz watched Sendak nod slowly, tapping the flat edge of his tablet against his thigh. “He's been forgetting things, staring off into space a bit.”  
“Let me get a smoke first, then we can talk.” Ulaz muttered, heading to his bag and pulling out his pipe. Sendak cocked his head to the side. “Hypocritical?”  
“My job is stressful.” Ulaz gave him a half-smile and pulled out a small communicator. “I need to record the discussion.” He pressed a button and motioned for Sendak to start.

 

-

 

“Finally, your jaw's all fixed.” Ulaz lightly chuckled as he tossed Shiro a small bag. The human, perhaps a little too groggy in hindsight, snatched at the air but missed the packet that flew over his head. He watched it, turning his head to Ulaz with a very displeased look on his face. “Don't give me that look,” Ulaz grinned, and Shiro rolled his eyes. Ulaz watched him cautiously climb over the pipes around the tank and squeeze between the back. “I'm not used to being the short one.” Shiro grumbled, wandering over and pulling himself up to the table. He offered Ulaz the bag, who shook his head. “I saved them for you, they're yours.”

 

“Thank you.” The Commander had been right – there was something off with him. “This must be stuffy and claustrophobic in here. Did you want to go anywhere, stretch your legs?”  
“I don't really know. I want to do something, but I don't at the same time.” Shiro twisted the top of the packet up. “I don't know if it's because a lot happened. I'm just overwhelmed.”  
“If you don't want to go out, I was actually wondering if you could help me?”  
“What can I help you with? Outside of killing things and sucking dick, there's not a lot of things I'm really good for these days.” Ulaz felt the fur stand up on the back of his neck. He frowned at the man sat on the table. “You're _more_ then that. You're intelligent and have an amusing wit about you. Your love for space is just a _little_ bit infectious.” Shiro cocked his head to the side, “how does that work?”  
“Well, remember when you were asking me what system this was in, and you listed all those 'superclusters'?”  
“I'm uh...not sure?” Shiro narrowed his eyes, focusing hard at the floor. Ulaz watched his pupils flick around curiously, as if moving them would jog his memory. “It was when we went out to find you fabric.” Ulaz prompted. “Oh, oh yeah. We went to that big market, and I told you about heko-obi's.”  
“That's it!” Ulaz clicked his claws. “Regardless, I have a bit of a surprise for you. Follow.”

 

Ulaz jogged over to the displays and brought up the secondary screen. He turned to Shiro and offered a tiny smile. “I was wondering if you would recognise this?” He poked the display and Shiro looked up. It took him a dobosh to process he could read the words. “Have I woken up able to read Galran?”  
“Nope.” Shiro could hear the smile in his voice, and as he stared at the screen, he felt something bubble inside of him, something warm and familiar. His eyes darted about reading every single word and then looking at the url listed at the top of the screen. “How did you? This is the? It's a star map.” He wanted to scream in happiness and cry and curl in a ball all at once.  
“I believe it's an information page from your old place of work?”  
“Yes! How do you have it?”  
“Galran intelligence gathering is very...efficient.” Ulaz tapped the other display. “However we have some images to work from, and so what we can do is this.” He took Shiro's hand, needing to lift him against the terminal, and guided him through the motions of setting the image to scan. Ulaz pressed a few keys, but apart from that, the second display started running different star charts. “Hopefully we can work out where you are.” Ulaz ruffled the top of his hair. Shiro choked out sob, grabbing him around the waist. He didn't know why he was crying so suddenly. He didn't _care_ why. He felt arms around his body, and gentle fingers stroke the back of his neck. “It's alright, Shiro. I'm here for you.”

 

-

 

“This is for you.” Sendak presented his slave with a small black tablet, similar to his own. The slave took it in his hands, inspecting it from all angles. “It's just a tablet.”  
“Why have you gifted me one, Commander?”  
“Good behaviour. It has a few things on there you may find soothing.” He watched the slave turn it on, legs swinging over the edge of the table. Sendak looked over to Ulaz, who was still talking to Hepta it seemed. “The tablet contains information pulled from Earth's databanks and servers.”  
“That's...terrifying.”  
“The Galra look to gather as much intelligence as possible. Your planet is also quite noisy, so that makes it very easy to locate and draw information from.”  
“We did also send things into space.”  
“We are aware.” Sendak rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn't entirely convinced this would be a good idea, but Haggar had agreed to it on Ulaz's recommendations.

 

“You've got...a lot of my information.” Shiro flicked through the tablet, brow furrowing as he checked what file types they had available. “What does that say?” He turned the screen to Sendak, who took it from him. “It says media.” Shiro bit his lip, taking the tablet back and tapping it. Reams of photos began to load up and he scrolled and scrolled. He felt Sendak watching him, and shifted along the table he was sat on, patting the side next to him. “Since, you know, we're rebuilding trust. I...want to share this with you.” He muttered, leaning into the Commander's armour and presenting him with the last photo he had from Earth of him next to Matt and Sam in front of their ship. “You look very happy.”  
“I was.”  
“What was your role?”  
“I was the pilot.” Shiro sighed, swiping the screen. He paused on one photo and let out a small laugh. He felt claws rub his shoulder and relaxed a little. He'd been missing these little moments with Sendak.

 

“That's my friend. He was happy I was going on the mission, but was upset I was leaving. He didn't smile a lot but when he did, like this, it really cheered me up.” Shiro noted the slightest of blushes on Keith's cheeks in the photo. Shiro had drawn him in for a close hug and squashed their cheeks together to take the selfie. He tried to recall why he'd have pulled him that close, but the memory was hard to find.

 

He quickly backed out of the images and scrolled until he hit the audio and video files. He tensed at one video, recognising the file name. He'd need to learn how to delete that soon. That was not for Sendak's eyes. “What's wrong? You're staring like you've seen a ghost.”  
“It's nothing important. Bad memories.” Shiro smiled as he tapped an audio file, a steady beat filling his ears. “This is one of my favourite songs.” He let himself fall into Sendak's lap, and felt the clawed hand smooth his sides carefully as he listened.

 

“Your species is really very noisy.” Sendak arched his brow at the small chuckle from his lap. “Humans are a really expressive species. If you stifle that, you take away what we are. Don't the Galra have art?”  
“Define 'art'.”  
“Architecture, paintings, literature, theatre, dance and music? You don't sing?”  
“Ulaz?” Sendak called, motioning the other over. “Would you say that _valik_ counts as music?”  
“Uh.” He raised his brows at Sendak, who didn't really know how to respond himself. “The guttural throat growls to war drums and horns?”  
“Yes, what the ancient clans of Diabaazal's dark-side used to do before battle or in mourning.”  
“I would...presume so?” Ulaz scratched the back of his neck.

 

“Are we talking about music?” The three at the table looked around to see Hepta clutching the tablet close to his chest, but with a big toothy grin on his face. “I studied the ancient clans when I was younger, and clan history at home is very important. It'd class as music – singing – but takes on more of a dirge quality. Although drums and horns are important in most Galran music through the eons, there was also a clan that used string-based instruments during times of celebration. That was made from the heart strings of fallen steeds, if I'm remembering right. So yeah we have music, it just doesn't sound like what you're playing. What instruments does your kind have?” He crouched down to look at the slave snuggled in the Commander's lap, cocking his head to the side curiously.

 

“Officer Hepta!” Ulaz barked, “I have told you not to crowd the human.”  
“A-Apologies!” Hepta backed away quickly, bowing his head in apology to Ulaz, and then Sendak. “You can sit and discuss musical instruments with the human, but just remember what I said, understand?”  
“Understood, sir, I'm sorry for acting out of turn.”  
“Go take the report to the office for me.” Ulaz patted his shoulder, and Hepta scurried away.

 

Shiro couldn't hold back his laughter. He balled his hands into Sendak's thigh as he lifted himself up. He wiped his eyes, the two Galra giving him odd looks. “I-I'm sorry. It's just funny. It's nice to laugh again.” Shiro managed eventually, taking a deep breath. “He's been giving me the odd glance every so often. It was weird at first, but he seems harmless.” Shiro powered down the tablet and placed it to the side. “He seems nervous.”  
“It's likely working here, and the reason he's here.” Sendak muttered, petting Shiro's hair slowly. “What do you mean?”  
“He was trying to save a comrade during a rebel attack. He lost his arms during the fight. You've met the perpetrator already.” Sendak growled. Shiro blinked, “who was it?”  
“Champion.”

 

-

 

“Shiro, I'm sorry to wake you, but I need your help translating again,” Ulaz gently shook Shiro's arm, the human grumbling as he was roused from his nap. He'd been sleeping a lot lately and barely eating. Ulaz wondered if it was down to all the quintessence he was likely absorbing from being in the labs. Even if he wasn't in the tank, he'd noted the levels had plateaued at a greater-than-average level. His temper had flared on occasions when they'd needed to draw samples, to the point Sendak needed to restrain him. Whether it was good or not, the Commander certainly seemed to possess a better hold over him these days, and usually a stern talking to would relax Shiro enough that Ulaz could continue with his work.

 

“Kay.” Shiro yawned, pulling himself up and raking his long hair to the side. “I can braid it for you if you like?” Ulaz offered as he steered Shiro towards the terminal. “Braids are usually worn by warriors, and as a gladiator, it wouldn't be strange for you to wear one.”  
“If you want. I don't feel like much of a gladiator lately. I'm just stuck in here like a lab rat.” Shiro motioned to the room. “I'm feeling weird again. My chest hurts and I'm having nightmares.”  
“We'll have a talking session in a varga if you want?”  
“That'd be nice.” Shiro took the drink Ulaz offered him and settled on the stool. “Have you got the recording thing?”  
“I do. I can braid your hair while you read.” Ulaz flashed him a smile and Shiro nodded, before turning his attention to the screen.

 

-

 

“I feel bad. Really bad.” Shiro placed his hands between his legs and rocked backwards and forwards. “I tried to kill Matt. I let him...get violated by Haxus. I did _nothing_. I failed him, I failed Sam. I'm a fucking monster, Ulaz. I see his face in my dreams, but then I see so many others.” Shiro looked up to Ulaz, who was sat opposite him listening carefully, just like he always did when Shiro was like this. He smoothed the braid, appreciating the small kindness that Ulaz always shown him. Always looking after him like nothing was a trouble. “Can you promise me something?”  
“Of course, Shiro.” His voice was so soft, so warm. “As much as I...belong to the Commander. I sometimes wish you were my master instead. I'm not saying Sendak is terrible, but it's just taken a lot to get to where we are now. It's better, but he doesn't even use my name. I still feel I have to walk on eggshells with him, even though he's not been as violent towards me in a phoeb. You though, you're so caring and kind. Alright, we didn't get on at first, but you've treated me so well.”

 

Ulaz shifted his legs and cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should take this a bit at a time? Let's focus on the first bit; your friend, Matt. Your guilt is clear, Shiro, but you can't allow this to consume you. You were involved in an awful situation that was compounded by an equally worse set of prior circumstances. Your head was a place no human or Galra would want to be in, but yet here you are. Your friend is young, yes?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Much like Officer Hepta, the young say things in a well-meaning manner. Yet sadly, they are not as well-equipped. Both you and your friend have been through so much since coming to us, and from your files,” Ulaz always hated reminding Shiro of this, “we can see you both have led very calm lives for the most part. It is only natural, sadly, that this culminated the way it did. He was clearly worried and upset seeing you like that, and you were upset because of what had transpired, hence your feelings of betrayal.”

 

Ulaz wanted to tell him none of this was his fault; that it was all Sendak and Haxus's doing, but if he did the likelihood that Shiro would spiral again was too great, and the outcome for the man sat in front of him looked to be nothing but bleak. He didn't want to lie to him, but he couldn't allow the human to keep undergoing torture he knew he'd fight against. At least if Sendak could take him willingly, the Commander wouldn't leave him with so many broken bones, and if Shiro was at least consenting as much as a slave _had_ consent, then it was considerably better then before. He had to admit, the Commander's behaviour had improved around Shiro, and even he was noticing the gentle touches and private laughs they'd share. It didn't warm his heart, but it eased it a little.

 

“You need to give yourself more time. From what I've read about humans, you need the time to process and heal, to make sense of things. It's probably more healthy then what we do. Shiro, your kind must have amazing emotional resilience. You are _stronger_ than us in more ways then you think.”  
“U-Ulaz. I...” Shiro's eyes welled up and he leaned forward, hiding his face as he sobbed into his hands. His body shuddered, and Ulaz rose from his seat, coming to crouch beside Shiro's chair. “You're doing great,” he whispered, rubbing small circles into his human shoulder. Without warning, Ulaz was pulled into a tight embrace, soft lips pressing against his cheek. Shiro sniffed again, the wet trails of tears damp across his short fur. “Promise me you'll never leave.” Ulaz wrapped his arms around Shiro's back and drew him close, nuzzling the crook of his neck. He couldn't make a promise like that, but he wanted to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been nice having Sendak get called out by the others for his behaviours and choices, and will be something to explore as we go onwards. The therapy time with Ulaz was also good to write, because no matter how much Shiro's been broken down, he still knows Ulaz is safe and kind, much like how he still recognises that Sendak's behaviour hasn't always been kind. The problem is though is that he's 'rationalised' it.
> 
> I'm also not entirely certain how or if Operation Kuron will play out yet in this fic long-term, but in case I'm setting it up now. I've got some ideas how to re-purpose it if I need to, but that won't be until part two. One idea I have is keeping it, but the Shiro clones are used as test subjects only. The original plan for Op Kuron couldn't have just been to spy on the Paladins, in my mind, and I've had a theory sometimes that when they were testing Zarkon's armour back in s2 I think, well, all those subjects did die. What if some of those were his clones as opposed to sentries or aliens deemed for execution? We won't ever know, but as an idea it's fun to explore and that's IF I go that way.
> 
> I should start chapter 21 later tonight, but aside from that, I hope you do enjoy ^^


	21. Disclosure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was meant to be a very light chapter. Originally, anyway. But nooo, I had to go and realise something and add it in to tie up this period. There's...a really fluffy sweet scene this chapter, and the last one is really emotionally painful. I promise though that it's gonna be touched on in chapter 22 because my hEART. Tonally, it will shift about a bit, because this chapter is over the course of four movements. We're now half way there towards the gladiator fights to see who becomes Champion. 
> 
> Thank you again for all the comments and kudos, and welcome to new readers. I'm really grateful for you all taking the time out to read this, and I can't believe how well it's been doing.
> 
> There's some bits and pieces I've had to fact check regarding medical bits, so that should be accurate. Or at least I hope so.
> 
> On with the rollercoaster.

“What form do you call that, Officer Hepta?” Sendak scolded as he pulled Shiro off Hepta's hips. “H-He's stronger than he looks!” Hepta panted, dusting his armour down as he looked at Shiro cautiously. “I know he's a gladiator, but _fuck me_.”  
“Language!” Sendak scolded again, his neck fur puffing out. “Commander, he's still struggling with his arms.” Shiro placed a tentative hand on Sendak's arm, rubbing it gently. Sendak let out a sigh and looked down at him. “You need to enforce discipline, slave.”  
“But you can do that by rewarding good behaviour, right?” Shiro gave him a sheepish smile and approached Hepta. “His form wasn't bad, you're just nervous, right?” He asked, and Hepta's ears lowered. “A bit. I've never been much of a fighter. I like it, but I feel I'm better at other things.”  
“You mean like Ulaz?”  
“Yeah, like that.” Hepta shifted awkwardly on his feet. “I can use firearms well, but fighting with swords and my fists? I'm not strong in those areas.” He glanced away from Sendak. “I'm sorry, Commander, I must seem like a joke of a Galra.”

 

Sendak approached and settled a hand on his shoulder. Hepta slowly raised his head, ears drooping low. “Officer Ulaz and Lieutenant Haxus may not be as strong a fighter as myself, and perhaps not as naturally aggressive as the slave here, but they do know how to put up a fight. Perhaps I should give you both a set of stun guns?”  
“It'd be nice to use a blaster again.” Hepta grinned, looking to the slave, “I'm a pretty decent shot.”  
“Good, because I'm not too bad either.” The slave smirked and took a few paces towards Hepta, eyes ablaze like they used to be. “Officer Hepta, go and collect two training weapons.” Sendak nodded and Hepta jogged away.

 

As the doors closed, Sendak pulled Shiro into an embrace, clawed hands resting on his rear. “I do enjoy when you talk like that.”  
“I like a challenge.” Shiro purred as he ran his hands down Sendak's front. It'd been quite a while since they'd done anything, and it'd be unlikely they could still for even longer. Shiro leaned into Sendak's palm as the fingers stroked his naked neck. “Why haven't you put the collar back on yet?”  
“You miss it?” Shiro could feel the husky voice rumble in his chest, and he felt his face burn. “Well, yeah. I don't feel I'm really _yours_ without it.”  
“Don't worry, I'll give it to you soon.”  
“Do you know that on Earth, what you said can be seen as filthy, right?” Sendak gave his forehead a tiny lick and released him, walking over to the discarded training sword. “Oh, I am well aware of it's Earth meaning.” Sendak purred as he caught Shiro's gaze. “So I'll leave it to you as to what my intentions are.” Shiro paused for a few ticks, mulling it over before hissing and stalking away to collect his sword. _Why does he do this?_

 

-

 

“So are all humans this furless?” Hepta shouted over the rushing water. Shiro cocked his eyebrow at the Galra who was staring at him, pupils wide and looking like he wanted to touch Shiro's skin. “We all have tiny hairs on our body – fine and barely notable. Some aren't, but they grow in places to keep us warm.”  
“So you need to have warms heads, armpits, and,” Hepta motioned vaguely to Shiro's crotch. “Yes, Hepta.” Shiro sighed, somewhat exasperated by the amount of questions he kept getting from the Galra about body hair. “So the hair on your stomach and the little fluffy bit on your chest and around your face is also to keep you warm?”  
“Yes.”  
“So if your feet get cold, why don't you have furry feet?” Shiro paused, casting the curious Galra a confused look. “You know, I have no idea.”  
“Humans sure are weird.”  
“We sure are. Galra are a bit confusing – there's the lizardy ones like the Emperor, the fluffy ones like the Commander, and then ones like yourself and Haxus. Why is that?”  
“It's just how we evolved.” Hepta shouted matter-of-fact, tilting his head at Shiro like he was an idiot.

 

“Our home world, although I've never seen it, was apparently rocky and sandy in the northern hemisphere, but then the under-side of the planet was cast in darkness for most of the deca-phoeb because of how our planet was.”  
“How does that work? Was your planet not a sphere?”  
“Kinda, but not all planets are the same, you know.”  
“Really?”  
“Of course? You don't know a lot about space, do you?”  
“Well,” Shiro smoothed the suds from his hair, “we'd only just reached the end of our system.”  
“Well hopefully you can see more of space some time, if you live long enough in the arena that is.” Hepta stuck his tongue out. It may have been in jest, but Shiro's face faltered a little as he turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. Ulaz was right about the young ones not realising the weight their words carried. As a citizen, Hepta didn't have to worry about being forced into the arena to fight for his life.

 

-

 

“Did you have a good sleep?” Shiro swung his legs over the side of the table like usual as he watched Ulaz bring up the displays on the terminal. “I did, thank you.” Shiro frowned. He seemed distracted. “I was helping Hepta with translating earlier, and Sendak came in for a few vargas after his meeting. I think he got in a fight with someone, because his cheek looked swollen and his lip was cut.”  
“I see. The Commander should be fine.” Ulaz brought out his pipe and lit the contents. There was definitely something wrong. With caution, Shiro slipped off the table and crept over towards him. It was like he was in his own little world. As he got closer, he heard a sigh. “I would prefer you not try to sneak up behind me, Shiro. Please remember I'm trained as a warrior, and those reflexes just don't disappear.” His voice sounded tired and frustrated. “I-I'm sorry, Ulaz. You just don't seem like yourself.”  
“That's because I've had some bad news.” Ulaz turned back to the screen.

 

He felt a warm hand place itself over his. Ulaz looked down to see Shiro staring up at him, eyes full of determination. “You can talk to me. I may not be as old as you-”  
“Thank you for that-”  
“-But I can at least listen. It's heart-wrenching to see you like this, and you're my friend.” Shiro curled his fingers around Ulaz's, and he mouthed the words to himself, a tiny smile on his lips. “Let's go for a walk.” He patted Shiro's shoulder, and the human bolted away to find something to wear. It was late enough that they'd likely not get any problems from other Galra out and about, and where he had in mind was quiet enough.

 

Although the druid in charge for the evening was a bit too questioning, he was still allowed to do it. The two walked for quite a while in silence, until Ulaz finally stopped in a large atrium. A huge fountain of quintessence sat in the centre, while a variety of different hardy-looking plants grew in rocky beds. It was similar to a park, with diamond-shaped lamps scattered about the area. Ulaz wandered to sit at the edge of the pool, motioning Shiro to follow him. “Whenever I need to think, I come to this place.” He muttered, dipping his fingers in the quintessence and half-smiling at the warm feeling. “It seems nice.” Shiro looked around. “It is. There's very few natural spaces like this on Central Command. They're mostly in the rings.” Ulaz looked to Shiro, the bright violet-white light from the fountain highlighting his face. He looked away back to the pool.  
“I found out two things. The first relates to an old pupil of mine.” Ulaz swallowed the lump in his throat. “Today I found out that they perished. Are you aware that some of the fleet went missing?”  
“I'm not sure.” Shiro shifted his weight and reached for Ulaz's hand. “I-I'm sorry.”  
“We don't fully know what happened to the fleet yet, but another came upon the remains only a few quintants' ago. They've been searching for a few movements now, and I just. I just...” He trailed off, biting back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

 

He, Thace and Krolia had mourned their brother earlier. They were awaiting Kolivan's message – none of them could understand why their brother never made it off the ship when their numbers weren't exactly impressive to begin with. Answers were needed; accountability was demanded. The intel they'd gathered between them was all correct, and according to Krolia, they had a new lead found through one of her own established contacts. Ulaz needed to be careful what he said to Shiro, he couldn't reveal anything that could threaten their mission, and he was too close to Sendak. He couldn't put him in that position and potentially be killed. Gift or not, his actions would be treasonous.

 

“It's...hard to know that someone out there has the technology to cause our ships to vanish and...destroy them.” He scrubbed at his eyes and ran his hand through his mohawk. “I've heard things, from Sendak.” Shiro muttered quietly, scooting towards him. “He was talking to Haxus about the twenty-third fleet going missing the quintant before I was forced to the rings. He mentioned something about the rebels and the Blades of Mamoa?”  
“Marmora.” Ulaz corrected. “They're a group that fights against the Empire.”  
“Are they like the rebels?”  
“From what I understand, they are Galra themselves.” Ulaz needed to be very careful. “So...there's Galra that don't agree with what the Empire does? From my perspective, they sound great.” Shiro smiled half-heartedly. “Sorry, I shouldn't say that, should I? I'd probably get murdered by Sendak if he heard me say that.”  
“You would, but I can understand why you'd find them appealing.”  
“Sendak was saying about how they think it's them or the rebels must have jamming equipment or insider knowledge or some amazing scientist. They don't seem sure, or didn't seem sure. It probably doesn't help, thinking about it. I'm sorry, I'm being insensitive.” Shiro retracted his hand and shuffled back.

 

“It may not be concrete, but if there's discussions about this in High Command meetings, then at least they're on top of it. It's...nice to hear at least.” Ulaz offered Shiro a weak smile and motioned him back. “I trained my old pupil as a Technician, and like me they moved into the medical field after working in the labs for quite a while. It was a new chapter in their life and, for it to be taken so quickly away from them...I just, it's not fair, it's not right.”  
“I don't know how Galra deal with grief, but your pupil, they're still in here,” Shiro pressed his hand to Ulaz's armour. “They're in my armour?”  
“No! They're in your heart!” Shiro gave him an incredulous look. “Why would you think I meant armour?”  
“Well your hand's there.” Ulaz's face twisted into a smile, and he scooped Shiro into a cuddle. “Thank you.” He mumbled, a small tear rolling down his cheek. “You're going to crush me like you almost did when I tried to escape.” Shiro pushed at his arms, and Ulaz hummed softly as he let him go.

 

“You are right. I will carry them with me for the rest of my quintants. In my heart.” He clarified the latter, Shiro snorting at him. “It's...what I learned to do when I lost my father. I was about ten when he passed away. He had the same condition as I did, before you healed me. His heart gave out suddenly.” Shiro glanced to the quintessence, a doleful look in his eyes. “I still miss him. He was supportive of me applying for the Garrison, even though it was so many deca-phoebs away at the time. When he wasn't working, at weekends he'd spend it playing with me, helping me build model planes and rockets. When I was really little, I remember he found this...awful alien costume and chased me around the garden in it. I used to pretend I had this laser gun and would shout 'blam-blam' at him.” Shiro laughed, his eyes having a small glint as he was caught up in his reverie.

 

“My pupil had a habit of hiding my pipe.” Ulaz pulled it out. “Not this one, of course. They'd yell at me to stop smoking, it was bad for my health.”  
“Well it is.”  
“It is, but it calms my nerves and gives me a chance to think. We all have our vices,” Ulaz looked pensively at the pipe, before lighting it. They sat in silence, the sound of the quintessence bubbling softly and the pipes contents gently burning away the only distractions. “My vice is drinking.” Shiro finally said, Ulaz noting him rest his head on knees. “A common one.”  
“Some things are universal.”  
“Seems to be.” They shared a private laugh, Ulaz taking stock of the man to his right. “Thank you.” He leaned over, planting a chaste kiss to Shiro's cheek.

 

“Can I try a bit?”  
“Of what?”  
“The pipe?” Shiro took it from Ulaz's offering hand and drew it to his lips, taking a small puff.  
“Do you like it?”  
“Indifferent.” Shiro coughed a little as he exhaled, handing it back. “What was...the other bit of bad news you had?” He gazed solemnly at Ulaz, watching him take a long drag. They remained in silence as Ulaz stared at the ground below them. “It concerns something I must do to you.” He answered carefully, not looking at Shiro. “It'd be invasive and I don't really want to do it, but I have no choice.”  
“You can't lie you did, can you?”  
“The High Priestess knows if you lie or not. So no.”  
“Is it just taking more samples? Does she want a brain sample?” Instinctively he grasped his skull. The idea of having anyone poke around and pull bits out was a horrifying thought. “No, and if we took anything from your brain it would be a tiny amount – microscopic. Like a biopsy. The other human, the scientist, they preformed two on him, and I can confirm he's very much functional.”

 

“So what do you have to do?” Shiro pressed, and Ulaz couldn't keep it from him. “I need to go through your memories – all of them since you came to us. We don't have a complete map of your mental state, and,” he grit his teeth, “the technology used is similar to what the Druids did to you when you were captured. They can probe your mind and memories; find anything they want or purge it from you. The machine I have to use has been tested on a great scientific mind who refused to co-operate with us, so any ideas he had would be pulled and visualised.”  
“That sounds barbaric! What happened to him?”  
“He was actually broken out of prison almost a deca-phoeb ago. We're still looking for him.”  
“I hope he stays safe.” Shiro muttered, clutching his shoulders tightly. “In your case,” Ulaz continued, “the machine can be tweaked to see how the memories makes your brain react and what chemicals it releases on reflection. If those line up with my current theories and prognosis then I can make sure the Commander takes that into account, because I have the High Priestess on my side at present. She's...someone you want as an ally.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes.” Ulaz swallowed. “You see why I've been distant? I've been conflicted, because a Druid would just be invasive and wouldn't ask, but I...don't want to hurt you any more – especially after what happened with your arm.”  
“I forgave you.”  
“I haven't forgiven myself.” Ulaz let his arms drop to the side despondently. “There's nothing I can do. I have to hurt you, and I don't want to. I can't even have you under.”

 

“The fact you don't want to means more to me then you'd ever know.” Shiro pulled himself off the side and stood in front of Ulaz. He took the pipe from the Galra's hand and placed it beside him. “Look at me.” He watched Ulaz raise his head, his eyes emitting a dull glow in the light. _Please not like that_. “You've told me what will happen, you've made it clear you'd rather not, but at the end of the quintant, you've done the decent thing and told me. I don't want anyone in my memories, honestly, but if I had to have anyone rooting around my head, I'm happy it's you.” Shiro crouched in front of the Galra, taking his hand in his. “When are you supposed to start?”  
“Tonight”  
“How long will it take?”  
“Several sessions. It won't all be at once. That much I could refuse to do.” Ulaz studied his hands. “I feel sick knowing I'll see you so vulnerable.”  
“I don't think it matters. I've been humiliated enough I don't think I care any more. Oh, I should warn you, don't eat anything before you do it. Turns out bestiality is a thing aliens allow.” Shiro cracked a broken smirk as he let his eyes drift to the ceiling.

 

Shiro was taken aback at the strong embrace. “I'm so sorry, Shiro. If I could, I'd take you away from this in a heartbeat.”  
“I believe you.” Shiro felt his eyes prickle again. Being around Ulaz made him cry; a lot. He wasn't used to having someone shatter his defences like he did. Shatter was too violent a word, and that was something Ulaz was not. He looked up to find those golden eyes closed tight. Ulaz was too good for him. Shiro was nothing more then an emotionally messed up fuck-toy; Ulaz didn't need him ruining his life. “I wish we'd met better in another life.” Shiro whispered as he pushed his face against the armour, enjoying Ulaz's scent. He wouldn't try and kiss him again, He shouldn't.

 

“I know we should go back soon, but can we sit longer?” Ulaz's whisper was hoarse against his ear. Shiro hummed in agreement, and was released from his arms. The two settled back on the edge of the fountain in silence, Ulaz pulling Shiro against his chest and drawing swirled patterns into his skin. “I'm still a bit nervous, I hope this makes you feel better.”  
“It feels nice, but no matter what, I trust you.” Shiro watched Ulaz, taking in just how pale his fur was. The quintessence made it look white. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying to push his racing thoughts to the side.

 

Shiro watched him bring the pipe back to his mouth, adding some more tobacco-like substance to it and reaching for his lighter. A golden eye met his, and as he lit the pipe, the gaze remained steadfast. Ulaz took a few drags, blinking slowly at Shiro, who could feel his face burn hotter. Shiro brushed his fingers against the pipe delicately and Ulaz brought it down, exhaling though his nose. “Take a drag,” he muttered. Shiro took a longer one then the previous attempt. “Hold it inside,” Shiro tried to remember how he smoked the cigarette with Hetto, but Ulaz's lips were far to distracting as he leaned in close, bring his pipe back to his mouth. “Breathe out.” Through half-closed eyes, Shiro exhaled.

 

Ulaz didn't mind the smoke as it billowed against his face. He brought his clawed hand up and ran it through Shiro's dark hair. He could feel himself lean down against his better judgement, those strange grey eyes pulling him in. He shouldn't do this, he was supposed to be the one person who wouldn't take advantage of him. “Sh-” his attempt was blocked as Shiro kissed him. He felt his tongue flick against his lips, and let the human enter his mouth. He allowed Shiro to cautiously probe about, before rubbing his tongue against the human's. Shiro shivering in his chest, the tiniest of gasps making his ears twitch. Ulaz carefully broke the kiss as he pulled away, licking his lips. Shiro's skin had turned red and his eyes were wide in the light. “Are you okay?” Ulaz asked. His reply was an even needier kiss than the first, that prompted Ulaz to push back just a bit to explore Shiro's mouth. The second kiss broke again, the two panting a little. “We shouldn't do this.” Shiro looked at him, and Ulaz nodded in agreement.

 

When they stared at each other, they both knew that would be a lie, and this was something they'd have to carry to the grave as Shiro pushed himself on top of Ulaz's hips, cupping his face and kissing him again as the quintessence continued to bubble and the lights continued to shine.

 

-

 

“How was your shift?” Thace cracked an eye open as he watched Ulaz flop down on the bed. “I...fuck.” Ulaz looked to Thace. “There's a problem."  
“What's happened?” His breath caught; he hoped Ulaz hadn't done something reckless. “Shiro...I...we _kissed_.” Ulaz's ears drooped and he pushed his hands into his face. “I was an idiot.”  
“Is that it?” Thace pulled Ulaz towards him. “Is that what you're worried about?”  
“Well of course!” Ulaz snapped, glaring up at him. “Shhh. It's alright. Were you worried I'd get mad?” Thace was expecting it to happen eventually, and was happy it finally had. “Yes. I know you said things are okay since we aren't mates and everything but I just feel bad.”  
“Well you don't mind me doing things, right?”  
“Of course I don't.”  
“Then the same applies. Anyway, before I get ready, tell me about it.” Thace gave Ulaz a small nuzzle, the older burying his head in some blankets. “Stop being bashful.”  
“It was _nice_.” Ulaz rolled away. “If Sendak finds out, I am dead.”  
“You would be. Do you think Shiro can stay quiet?”  
“He can, we both know we shouldn't have done it.”  
“It'd be nice to sit down and talk to him properly.” Thace fiddled with the blankets, nudging Ulaz with his hand.

 

“You were hacking when you came in. Are you ill?”  
“I had to trawl his memories. The ones I did...I've been sick about three times tonight. I'm not even that far in, either.”  
“Fuck,” Thace spat, pulling Ulaz into his arms. “I'm sorry, for him and you.”  
“Don't feel sorry for me; they aren't haunting me on a daily basis.” Ulaz leaned into the touch, and Thace could feel his body grow heavier. He was starting to pass out from exhaustion – all that work he'd been doing in the day-cycle was starting to catch up.

 

-

 

“I need to take a spinal fluid sample. From what I've read about your species, this isn't a terrible procedure.”  
“Are you doing it like how my species would?” Shiro asked cautiously. Ulaz nodded, eyes darting to Sendak who was sat listening intently. “He won't be able to do anything strenuous, so no training for a movement.” Ulaz watched Sendak's lips twitch, but he didn't seem to have any complaints. “The High Priestess has requested it to be done.”  
“What she asks for, she will receive.” Sendak shrugged and cracked his neck, the swollen jaw finally settling down. “Do you need anything for that?” Ulaz motioned to Sendak's jaw, and the Commander shrugged his shoulders. “I don't feel like giving Ranveig the satisfaction.”

 

“What happened, Commander?” Shiro looked nervously over at Sendak, who turned his attention to him. “We couldn't see eye-to-eye on a few things.”  
“I bet he's not in the best shape.” Shiro balled his fists up, and Sendak chuckled, leaning over to tussle his hair. “You are quite correct. He got what he deserved.”  
“So much as I am content you beat up Commander Ranveig, I need to get this sample done hastily.” Ulaz sighed as he collected up some long needles, turning to Shiro and offering him a sympathetic look. “Can you go lay on the table and draw your legs up and tuck your chin in. Commander, if you're able, I was hoping you could assist me.”  
“What do you need me to do?”  
“Keep him preoccupied.” Ulaz brought the needles and some wipes over to the table, letting Shiro push the robe he wore around his hips.

 

Ulaz carefully cleaned the skin and took the needle for the anaesthetic. Sendak settled in front of the Shiro, leaning down to give him a tiny lick on his forehead. His grip on the needle became so tight he almost broke it in his hand. After what he'd seen with the memory trawling, a swift death would be too kind for Sendak. Steadying himself, he injecting the area he planned to draw the sample from. “It should take a few dobosh's.” He muttered, taking the needle away and throwing it in the sharps bin. His ears twitched at Shiro's warm laugh and the Commander's low rumble. He paused again, feeling his gut knot itself up. He hated this; hated how much control Sendak had over him. If he could, he'd get him back to Earth away from this life.

 

“Hey, Ulaz? How strong is that stuff? Everything feels really numb.”  
“Everything? It should be just the area.” Ulaz whipped around, hurrying over to Shiro and pressing his claws against the place he injected. “Are you touching me?”  
“Yes.”  
“Can't feel it.”  
“How about here?” Ulaz slowly pressed his claws further and further up Shiro's spine, the human unable to feel his touch. Ulaz was worried as he pressed his claws against his stomach. “Nope.”  
“What have you done?” Sendak's growl was low as he pressed his claws against Shiro's nipple piercing, he sucked in a deep breath.  
“Can you feel it?” Ulaz's voice rose in urgency.  
“Not really. My chest hurts.” They watched his chest rise and fall, his breathing starting to sound off. “Get him in the tank, put the mask on him.” Ulaz commanded as he ran to the sharps bin, carefully opening it and pulling out the needle.

 

“Fuck!”  
“What've you _done_?” Sendak's voice raised higher as he pulled the mask over Shiro's mouth and nose. “The amount, it was for a regular Galra-”  
“What will it do to him? Is he going to die?” Sendak stormed over and grabbed him by the front of his armour. He yanked himself away from the livid commander and ran over to the limp form in the tank. He whipped out his scanner, taking a quick reading. “He needs quintessence, now.” Ulaz hammered his palm against the button and the tank closed with a beep. They both watched it fill with the quintessence-infused liquid, Ulaz biting his claws anxiously as he watched the vitals spike.

 

It was a waiting game neither Galra liked. Ulaz stared at the readings, noting every subtle change, while Sendak had taken up a vigil in front of the tank. “He's strong, he will recover.” Ulaz wasn't certain if he was being addressed or not. Regardless, he kept to silently watching. “How did you miscalculate?” That was directed at him, and Ulaz didn't have a suitable reason to give. “It was an accident.”  
“If he was to perish, know that I would see to your demise _myself_.” Ulaz swallowed and bowed his head. Invoking Sendak's ire was something he couldn't afford.

 

-

 

“Stop that, you're making your skin raw.” Sendak smacked Shiro's prosthetic away from his back. “If I have to put you in restraints, I will do it.” He warned. Shiro groaned, deliberately placing both his hands above his head. “Happy?” He sniffed a few times and Sendak nudged the tissues towards him. “I feel I'm looking after a petulant kit.”  
“Imagining you around children is...terrifying.” Shiro blew his nose and closed his eyes, bringing the blankets up around his neck. He was freezing, his back ached and felt bruised and almost everything was itchy. The light hurt his head, and the pounding headache had been persisting for about four quintants' now. He'd go to sleep and wake up with the damn thing. Ulaz had been trying to soothe his pain in-between a million apologies, which would be fine if noise didn't feel like it was ten times louder than it actually was.

 

“Do I need to make you eat again today, or do I need to force the tube down your throat?” Sendak pushed his hair from his eyes, Shiro leaning into the touch. “No tube. I don't like gagging and choking.”  
“You don't seem to mind if you're being throat-fucked.”  
“That's...different.” Shiro cracked an eye open, “there's nothing sexy about this. I'm sorry, I'm a disappointment.”  
“I can forgive it because it's side-effects.” Sendak squinted at the slightly shifting blankets. “Stop wiggling, I know you're itching your skin again.” He planted his prosthetic on top of Shiro's body, forcing him still for a few ticks. Shiro's gaze moved from the hand to the Commander, the tiniest smirk playing on his face. “Don't you-” Shiro wiggled underneath the claws, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he eased the itch. “Are humans always this frustrating?”  
“Some.” Shiro snatched a tissue up to blow his nose.

 

“I never noticed your eyes glowed. Is that normal for Galra?”  
“Those who use quintessence, yes.”  
“Is that why you've been around for so long?”  
“That's correct.”  
“Doesn't it feel strange? Knowing you've gone beyond your natural life span? Don't you get bored of seeing the same things over and over, just a little different?”  
“You're rather philosophical, aren't you?” Sendak purred, although the tone was mocking. “No it's just something on Earth. There's stories and tales of people searching for things like the 'fountain of youth' and elixirs of immortality. Culture back home pushes everyone to look young, fear ageing and death.”  
“That's very curious. As Galra, so long as it's a death of old age or through combat, it is not a fear that binds us. We look to live longer to continue fighting; be it for the Empire or whatever other cause.”  
“So why did you want to continue living?” Shiro cracked open his other eye and watched Sendak. He seemed taken aback. “I live to serve my Emperor and the Empire. To be victorious.”  
“So what happens when you've no more enemies?”  
“There will always be enemies of the Galra, especially while Voltron exists.” Sendak rose from his seat, stretching his arm. “That is enough questions for now.”  
“But I have so many to ask. You know so much about me, but I know nearly nothing about you.” Shiro reached for the glass and carefully took it in his hand as he watched Sendak consider him. “Perhaps in time I will indulge your curiosities.”  
“I'd...like that.” Shiro's lips curled upwards as he settled back into the blankets. Sendak ruffled his hair. “You are a strange creature.” He sounded almost affectionate.

 

-

 

Due to the side effects of the anaesthetic, Shiro had taken a movement until he was well enough for the fluid sample. This time, it had gone ahead smoothly. They were running behind schedule, but at least Shiro was getting to train again with Hepta. The two would argue from time-to-time about who was the better shot or if Hepta stole a bit of his food. Ulaz had to scold him for stabbing Hepta in the hand with a fork at one point, but aside from that incident, they seemed to get on well enough. The young Galra was also quite efficient at his job and seemed to have a real passion for the work. He'd spoken to the High Priestess about him, suggesting that he would be an asset to the labs if she continued to give him projects. She was taking it under consideration and review.

 

“Officer Hepta, you can head home early if you like.” Ulaz looked up from the terminal at the two sat on the table, Shiro showing him something on the tablet. “What are you two doing?” He cocked his head to the side as they both laughed. Hepta looked up, “he's showing me videos of Earth animals.”  
“It turns out that every single video I ever watched online's on here.” Shiro chuckled, but he didn't look happy. “It's amazing how I can watch the cached videos at all.”  
“Didn't you say we're 'billions of light years' away?” Hepta asked.  
“Yeah. I don't know if you use light years, or if it's light deca-phoebs.”  
“It doesn't really matter,” Ulaz flicked back to the terminal, pulling up his previous notes and skimming them.

 

“Why is it that the little creature makes my chest feel warm, but I want to hold it tight against my chest and never let go?” Hepta tapped at the screen. Shiro chuckled, “that's what I was saying about something being cute.”  
“So do you find some Galra...'cute' because they are furry?” Hepta gave Shiro a shit-eating grin and Ulaz decided this was probably the best time for him to leave. “I have work to do, Officer Hepta. We'll see you in the morning.”  
“Ah, yes sir, sorry.” Hepta pushed himself from the table, offering Ulaz a quick salute, before jogging from the room.

 

“Thanks.” Shiro sighed, placing the tablet beside him. “I don't think I could answer that question.”  
“I didn't think you'd want to.” Ulaz motioned him over. “I'm on the last section of your memories. Are you as happy as you can be to let me do this section in one go, or do you want me to break it in two?”  
“I just want to leave, in all honesty. I think doing it in one would be better, although I use the word lightly.” Shiro twisted the fabric around his waist in his hand. “Didn't you want to tie it like you normally do today?”  
“I didn't feel like it.” Shiro let go of the fabric and moved towards the door. “Let's...get this over with.”

 

It had been two vargas, but they'd both been sick twice now. Shiro had broken down a couple of times in tears to the point Ulaz didn't need to check the readings, because the physical reaction was evidence enough. He'd been giving Shiro stress balls to try and hold, but he'd broken every single one. There was only so much positive coaxing Ulaz could give him, and it was at the point he needed to cradle the human in his arms, rocking him gently back and forth. This was apparently soothing, or for Shiro he found it so.

 

Shiro was sat back in the chair again, arms strapped down at his request. “I'll be starting again. Take deep breathes for me. You're doing really well.” Like usual, Shiro was unresponsive as he steadied his breathing. Ulaz pressed a button on the display, and the machine crackled back to life. Shiro's agonised cries made his stomach do flips as he continued to monitor the screen, capturing the images for reference only. He'd never store this, that would be too cruel.

 

He wanted to end it after what he'd just seen, but knew he couldn't. Something glowing orange caught his attention, and he paused the feed. He recognised this alien – it was the Champion. He felt his hackles rise as he watched and listened, but the anger quickly dissipated to be replaced by terror. Shiro was giving classified intelligence to him. The same information that Krolia's contact had passed on. He lifted his hand to his forehead, eyes wide as he stared at the monitor and then Shiro. Ulaz let the memory finish and ended the feed. The mission was priority, and nothing could compromise it. _Nothing_. Ulaz couldn't blow deca-phoebs of cover; it would be a betrayal to the Blades if he did. He was going to have to do something he wasn't proud of; become just as vile as Haxus and Sendak. He prayed the gods could forgive him; that Shiro could forgive him.

 

Shiro's eyes flickered open to see Ulaz's shining back. “What did you _do?_ ”  
“I...I-” If Shiro felt like he was going to die, this was a fine moment for it to happen. He'd not had time to come up with a decent lie, but it likely wouldn't work either, not now and with the present technology. “You _dare_ pass on information to our enemies?”  
“We're slaves! It's not like it matters? What if I tell him things? What can he actually do?”  
“You realise there are possible spies in our ranks? If he has connections-”  
“He'd be dead! If he was really feeding information out, then how come he's alive?” Shiro was answering on pure reaction. “Are you _stupid_? He may be being kept alive to monitor, collect more information on. Surely you know how spy networks work?”  
“Not off the top of my head – you seem to have a good idea-” Ulaz pushed his claws into Shiro's face, his expression twisted into a feral snarl and canines on display. “Give me a reason not to tell the Commander.”

 

He watched Shiro's face pale. Gods, he hated this. The realisation and terror surfaced quickly, his body tensing under his claws. “P-Please.” He quietly choked. “You can't.”  
“I need to report this to him – he needs to know.” Ulaz pulled away, hands behind his back, but scowling at Shiro over his shoulder.  
“You're killing me.”  
“You sealed your fate when you chose to pass on information.”  
“I thought it would help! To get Matt and Sam free!”  
“You _believed him?_ He's a terrorist, _slave_ , he's going to do anything he can to get information out of you!”  
“What...what can I do?” Shiro's voice was almost inaudible as he hung his head. “What do you mean?” Ulaz had a suspicion where this conversation was going to head, and he felt something die in his stomach. Shiro bit his lip, teeth drawing blood. “Is there anything I can do for you? I'd...do anything.”  
“Are you trying to strike a deal? What do you have to offer me, realistically?” Ulaz held his cold tone, hating every word that left his mouth.

 

“Nothing but my body.” Shiro croaked, eyes unfocused as he stared at the floor; he felt crushed. The only truly _good_ relationship he'd been able to tack together had crumbled to dust due to his own stupid decisions. “Do you think I want it after all I've seen?” That cut deeper then any claws or whips. Shiro ripped his gaze away from the floor. “I-It's all I have-”  
“Then it's a start. I'll give it some thought to what else you can do for me after I finish my work, but know this; if I you interact with that terrorist again, your fate will rest with the Commander.” Ulaz moved forward and roughly brought Shiro's face up. “You know what to do.” He growled, easing his body suit open. Shiro's eyes lowered and he opened his mouth obediently. This was his fault; he deserved this. It was another reminder in the many he'd had recently that living to protect those he loved got him nowhere. It was nothing but misery and humiliation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can imagine some of you may be upset with what Ulaz has done/said, and my rationale for what he's done to Shiro is on the basis that *if* he just made a threat, Shiro wouldn't really...listen. It would also seem a bit weird, at least in my mind, that he would get away scott-free for giving away intelligence, especially since he presumes Ulaz is just a regular Galra medical officer and loyal. So to make his point clear, Ulaz has had to take action to make the threat more real by using Sendak as a means, and earning compliance by the one thing that has seemed to work. Does he hate himself for this? Oh, oh god he does. Will Shiro find out? In time, yes. What he's wanted to do is steer Shiro as far away from Nadiva as he possibly can, because as mentioned further up, he is really scared of Shiro getting himself killed. He also needs to have words with Krolia and Thace, and we'll eventually see Kolivan at some point. I'll say now that Ulaz and Kolivan are not going to see eye-to-eye on a few things.
> 
> Again this is going to be explored carefully and with respect, but for both Ulaz and Shiro it's not...good. As a pre-warning, there will be a shift into self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and possible attempts. Chapter 22 is going to start off with self-harm, so please be aware (I'll remind again) if you are triggered by it. If you have any particular triggers, do not hesitate to let me know so I can pre-warn you. I will keep the tags updated, of course, but since I know roughly where we're going, I can at least confirm things.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless. As I've been writing, I had actually been enjoying Uliro and it's not a bad ship. I felt there was a weird amount of sexual tension when I was writing the smoking bit and I was like ffs why do I do this (and the realised I had to write the latter part of the chapter and this is why we can't have nice things, but the it'd also be a glaring plot hole). Talking of plot holes, Shiro may have seemed a bit forgetful (as is a thing with depression/early onset of the PTSD), but I can promise you lot this is being stored. Things will come out, in time.
> 
> See ya next chapter!


	22. Insight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you all for your comments and kudos. Another apology for the angsty hell that was the end of last chapter. Sadly, this is another angsty one because apparently everyone wanted to be a miserable sod. I actually wanted to write some smut between Shiro and Sendak, but when I started Shiro was just too miserable and it's like nah, this ain't happening.
> 
> Warnings: like i said this chapter starts with some pretty intense self-harm. That's the big one. Shiro feels like utter shit as well, but it's talk as opposed to action. Oh, Sendak has some angst as well! Who knew.
> 
> This was a tricky chapter to write. I had my friend do a check and she thinks the Ulaz-centric bits sound fine (the latter stuff didn't need a check since I'm pretty aware of the subject tbh. I don't think this chapter is that long? Also sorry, we're taking a little while to move. Gladiator time soon though, I do promise some nice bonding time with the slaves and god damn shendak porn.

The wet sound of fresh blood splattered against the cold metal floor. The dull eyes of his reflection glowed back at Ulaz as he dragged the spiked thongs back over his shoulder, hoarse hisses of pain filling the room as the spikes dragged through the torn flesh. He should have handled it better; should never of looked. He deserved nothing but this just punishment for his actions. “Let Birgir reign down his righteous fury,” through the pain he lashed the thongs back over his shoulder, “and,” he choked, “let Hlynur bless me in blood,” he clenched his fist around the handle and pulled, his screech high as the metal ripped new lines through his lacerated skin. He panted, eyes heavy and body almost ready to keel over, “let Lilja purify me with her forgiveness.” He let the thongs clatter to the floor as his body fell, exhausted. Ulaz slowly reached for the large needle of quintessence and stabbed it into his collarbone. “Finally, let Unnur purge my body of sin.”

 

-

 

Thace entered Ulaz's dark apartment and made a beeline for the bathroom. He only ever came here when things were bad, and this was the second time since Ulaz had been grounded in Central he'd come to his aid. As he opened the bathroom door, he wrinkled his nose. The smell never got better – it never would. “You need to stop doing this to yourself.” Thace whispered as grabbed a towel and bent down, placing it gently over the shredded back. He wouldn't hear him – Ulaz was passed out cold on the floor like all the other times prior to this.

 

Thace turned the light on and carefully eased Ulaz into the bedroom, taking out the medical kit and checking the supplies had been replaced. Nodding to himself, he worked at cleaning and sterilising the wounds. He needed to be placed in a tank to heal properly, but Ulaz wouldn't allow it due to his religion. Thace narrowed his eyes as he massaged the healing gel into his short fur, pulling away the tufts stuck in the gouges. That religion would be the death of him if it didn't end up being through battle. He wasn't a fanatic like he said he was when he was young, but there were some things that he never let go of; this being the worst. “I hate how this way of thinking was forced upon you,” he muttered into Ulaz's ear, giving his neck a tender lick, “and I hate you won't let me in. You can't keep overburdening yourself.” Thace refocussed his efforts on sterilising everything. He knew Ulaz would have injected himself with quintessence, but he needed more then this. It was going to be a long day-cycle.

 

-

 

Ulaz stretched out his body, cracking his eyes open and yawning wide. He blinked at the mug that sat on the bedside table. He took it, appreciating the small gestures of kindness that Thace allotted him when he was like this. He blew the liquid and took a tentative sip, humming in gratitude. His back felt sore, but it was irrelevant whether he hurt or not. He'd gone against what he believed in, and there was no justification for feeling sorry for himself. Dragging himself from the bed, he wandered through the dark corridor until he made it to the kitchen, Thace leaning against the counter as something cooked in the pan. “You need to clean out your fridge more often. Half of it was inedible.”  
“Good evening to you too.” Ulaz cracked a half smile before setting his mug on the side. “Thank you for everything you've done.” He leaned against the fridge, the two watching the pan.

 

“What transpired last night for this to happen again?” Thace finally asked as he turned off the heat and started to dish things up. He watched Ulaz bring his claws to his mouth. “Don't keep biting them.”  
“Apologies, I don't realise.” He settled carefully in the chair as Thace pushed the plate towards him and set a tall glass of water down. “You need your strength.” He muttered as he settled opposite with his own portion. “Was his memories that bad?”  
“They were terrible. I've never seen anything so degrading in all my deca-phoebs. His friend, gods...now I've seen and heard it all...I know why he willingly goes to Sendak.” Ulaz held his head in his hands, digging his claws in tight. Thace pulled his wrists away. “Please, stop hurting yourself.” He pleaded delicately. “That's not everything, oh gods no.” Ulaz sat chewing the food in his mouth, gaze fixated on the counter top.

 

“He's passed intelligence on to Champion – the same intelligence she submitted.” Ulaz finally said. He watched as Thace placed his fork down on the plate, head bowing as he to leaned on the table. “ _What did you do_?”  
“The only thing I could think of; threaten him and...I _can't_ say the rest. It's too shameful.”  
“Did he resist?”  
“No, he was obedient. That doesn't make it better.”  
“I know, nor would expect it to.” Thace sniffed as he stabbed his food absently. “I threatened to tell Sendak, told him to stay away from Champion.”  
“How can he if he's going back to train? He can't avoid him forever.”  
“I realised. More so after I found out they slept together. I made him swear he would break off any contact other than gladiatorial chatter.” Ulaz stared at his food, not feeling hungry any more.

 

“Are you going to do anything else to him?” Thace finally asked. “I'm going to avoid anything sexual in nature with him.”  
“That's for the best.” They looked at each other before Ulaz turned away. He couldn't stand to look at those eyes; he was making Thace sick with worry. “Was it penetrative?”  
“It wasn't sodomy if that's what you're asking.” Ulaz tapped his mouth and Thace nodded slowly. “I understand why this morning happened then.” He muttered, drawing his mug to his hands.  
“I'm disgusting and sinful.”  
“No, you were thinking about the mission. We all have...difficult sacrifices we need to make.” Thace rotated the mug on the table, watching the steam rise. Ulaz snorted. “The mission feels pointless when we have to hurt those we're supposed to be trying to free.”  
“But what else could you do? Reveal you're role to Sendak's personal slave and pray he didn't accidentally let it slip?” Thace's voice was louder then Ulaz was expecting.

 

“I'm sorry, I just...I wish you didn't hurt yourself like this. I feel bad for Shiro, of course I do, because he means a lot to you, but you're my mentor, my lover and someone I'd let have me as a mate. I want to be there for you, but when you punish yourself like this it...hurts. I know you hurt, don't think I'm trying to make this about me.” Thace grabbed Ulaz's wrist, holding it tightly as he leaned over. “Please, Ulaz, let me in and help you. I'm scared you're going to punish yourself so much one day you never wake up. I...get that your religion means a lot to you, but it affects your welfare.” Ulaz slowly looked into his eyes, head moving to the side just like it always did.

 

“It's _hard_. Everything growing up was so strict. We had to adhere to it 'lest we all be flogged. It's why I started biting my claws.” Ulaz set his fingers out on the table and watched as Thace picked up each hand with care. “You're taking the skin off.”  
“Is it not an improvement?”  
“It...is, but still.”  
“I don't want to push my problems upon you either.” Ulaz admitted, taking a sip of water. “You have your own skeletons.”  
“Perhaps, but you go rummaging for mine and I allow you in. I want to spend my time helping you. What would you say if we had a sit down, like you and Shiro, and tell me about what's on your mind? You're allowed to switch off and be looked after.” Thace took both the plates and placed them on the side. “We'll eat later.” He squeezed Ulaz's shoulder, the older Galra offering a cracked smile. “Perhaps I could share some of my demons.”  
“Then let me fight them off.” Thace gave him a small forehead lick, and he pulled Ulaz from the chair.

 

-

 

“You're free to take the slave with you. I am awaiting your Medical Officer's final report, and then you will receive the advisory one afterwards. I trust you will pay attention this time?” Haggar would be as condescending as she pleased with Sendak. She still wasn't happy with him for mishandling what could have been a perfectly good test subject if he hadn't been so desperate to break it. Nevertheless, if he could sufficiently rebuild it's psyche, like Sendak had mentioned to her, there might be other uses outside of the arena if it lived that long. “Thank you, High Priestess.” Sendak and the slave bowed to her, and she dismissed them with a flick of her wrist.

 

-

 

“You have been awfully quiet.” Sendak muttered, toying with the frayed braid that hung over his shoulder. “I'm tired, Commander.”  
“Was it a bad night?” Shiro was glad Sendak couldn't see his face. “Yeah. You could say that.” They walked in silence until they reached the giant atrium signifying they were close to Sendak's quarters. “So...Commander Ladnok and Kaleska live opposite us, but who else lives here?” Shiro asked carefully, looking left and right. “The other members of High Command. Commander Janka and _him_ live to the left, whereas Commander's Trugg and Gnov live to the right.”  
“How come we never see them except Commander Ladnok?”  
“Our clan homes mean something different to all of us. Gnov prefers to stay inside since she works constantly. Trugg flits between her clan home, Ladnok's and the Emperor's cruiser. Ladnok commands the High Priestess's cruiser, but is normally here. Myself and the other two spend a lot of time away from our clan homes, and if I had my way, I'd stay on my cruiser.”  
“Why did you come home then?” Shiro cast Sendak a quick glance. He watched him carefully before ruffling the back of his neck. “The Emperor grounded me here as punishment.”  
“O-Oh. I'm sorry.”  
“What's done is done. It was partially my fault.” Sendak pressed his hand to the door and it opened.

 

Shiro had missed this space. He wanted to go back and sleep on the sofa, but he wasn't sure. He wandered over to the pool, settling down on the floor to stare into the bright liquid. It's light was comforting. “What're you doing sat there?” Shiro turned to watch Sendak pull the armour from his chest, casting Shiro a look that could be worry. He didn't know. “I'm just...I don't know.”  
“Come here.” Sendak motioned for him, and Shiro pushed himself from the tiles as he wandered over, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers. “Are you ill again? Do I need to call Ulaz-”  
“No! No, I'm fine. I'm just really, really tired.” Shiro snapped. He flinched, drawing himself away as Sendak turned, the gauntlet catching in the light. “I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry-”  
“Silence. Sit.” Sendak ordered. Shiro complied, but remained rigid on the seat. “Stay.” Sendak gave him a curt nod and left the room. He returned a few dobosh's later with two glasses and a bottle of what was likely alcohol.

 

“You look like you need a drink.” Sendak poured Shiro a glass, something he didn't expect, and pushed it towards him. Shiro reluctantly picked it up and took a sip. “I brought more of what you drank a phoeb ago.”  
“I thought it tasted familiar.” Shiro studied the floor. “I'm sorry for snapping.”  
“You're forgiven.” Sendak watched Shiro intently as he drank. He wished he had pupils, at least then he'd be easier to read.

 

“Are you relieved to be out of the labs?”  
“Yeah. The Druid's creep me out.”  
“Unsurprising. Many Galra fear them for their powers.” Sendak mused, swirling the clear liquid. “The Galra fear something?” Shiro picked his head up, that was strange for Sendak to admit. “Yes. We may not fear death, but we still _fear_ things. We are a multi-faceted race, if you would believe that.”  
“I do, to an extent.” Shiro looked to the bottle on the table, wondering how drunk Sendak planned on getting him. He downed the rest of the drink and reached to pour a second glass. It was another short-term fix, but it would help him forget for a while.

 

“Something troubles you.”  
“Whaddya mean?” Shiro rolled his head forward, struggling to keep it from lolling back. They'd been having meaningless on-and-off chatter for the past varga and a half, a second bottle on the table between them almost empty. “You've been looking like you're ready to weep at any given moment.” Sendak leaned forward, watching Shiro carefully. “You're not acting like yourself.”  
“I dunno who I am right now.” Shiro hiccuped, groaning to himself.

 

“You're Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane.”  
Shiro frowned, brows knitted together as he lifted his head to Sendak. “Whatcha call me?”  
“Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane. That is your name, correct?”  
“Lieutenant's my title. Was.”  
“I gathered.” Sendak studied him, sipping again at his drink.  
”How do you know my name?”  
“Are you really asking me?”  
“Yeah. It's always been 'slave', or 'champion' for all of twenty vargas. Just guessed ya didn't know and never wanted to ask.”  
“Oh no, I've known it since you came aboard my ship.”  
“Why use it now?”  
“You asked who you were.” Sendak shrugged his shoulders, “I thought it an odd thing to forget.”  
“Don't mean it like that.” Shiro murmured. “I just don't know who, or what, I am. Not in a literal sense,” he looked at Sendak before he could answer 'human', 'alien', 'slave', or at worst 'whore', “it's like I'm a different person.”

 

“Events since your capture have changed you, yet you still persist being stubborn.” Sendak pulled his legs up on to the sofa as he propped himself up on his elbow. “To presume you'd remain the same is odd. You still do some of the same things, like quietly observe and get annoyingly loud-” Shiro snorted, and Sendak cracked a half-smile, “you take less coaxing to follow simple commands, however that's better for the both of us I think. Ah, yes, your sharpness in conversation; that's not really changed.”  
“Sounds like you're talkin' about a kid.”  
“There's an example right now.” Sendak smirked and Shiro groaned, hiccuping again. “I suppose the biggest thing is your inability to place your own life over others. At times I wonder if you just want to throw it away.”  
“Few reasons for that.” Shiro closed his eyes as he leaned back into the sofa. “Might as well tell you at this point.”  
“Only if you wish.” Sendak poured himself another glass and proffered Shiro a top-up. Reluctantly he nodded in agreement.

 

“Cut a long story short, my dad had a genetic condition I inherited. Was diagnosed as a teenager with it, on a shit-ton of medication to help the pain. Condition would cause my muscles to slowly decay, and then likely affect my organs as I got older. They were tryin' to ground me. Fuckin' fiancé ended the relationship 'cause I wanted to go out and live before I lost my independence – work tried to stop me.”  
“If you were sick how did you make it to space?” Sendak was actually quite intrigued, so much as he knew the general idea of this from his notes and what was sat in front of him. “Matt's dad, you know, the one I threatened to throw out the window, he wouldn't do the mission unless I was the pilot. Saved him a few times out there. So cuz millions got spent on it, and Sam's literally the best scientist in his field back home, the top-brass caved to his demands. Anyway,” Shiro waved his hand, “I went off-course. So eventually Ulaz claims that he's cured my condition, and you know, I don't believe that. Why should I? I accepted I was gonna die, probably just like my dad maybe in my thirties if I was lucky?” He ran his hand through his long hair, pushing it back against his scalp.

 

“So yeah, I accepted I was gonna die sooner then what I hoped, so why not do it earlier on my own terms instead of when _it_ slowly stripped me of everythin' I enjoyed in life? No brainer.” He poked himself in the forehead, a look of self-loathing on his face. “Now, well life has gone to shit, really. This is nice for maybe a few movements, and then it'll cycle. Again and again and again. So why not just give up? Ain't gotta purpose any more. I let Matt suffer, I've made you livid with me...I've messed up so many 'good' things that was happening slowly and I'll probably end up dead in the arena. So yeah, what's the point. Just get it over with, I'm weak and a waste of your time.” The slave flopped to the side, staring glassy-eyed at Sendak.

 

“If you don't bother, I'll do it myself.”  
“How do you think you'll manage that?” Sendak rose from his seat and padded over, rolling Shiro over onto his back. “I'll find a way. What humans do, ya know?” He laughed, but there was no joy there. “You will do no such thing, and I will not kill you.”  
“Please, just do it.”  
“No.”  
“Just _pretend_ it was an accident.”  
“I won't do that. You're drunk, and I'm not having a repeat of last time. You're going to bed.”  
“I'm not,” Shiro dug his fingers into the side of the sofa as Sendak went to pull him off, his grip tightening as he was tugged, “going to,” his knuckles were going white, but his prosthetic had a better grip it seemed, “bed.” The sofa came with him as Sendak pulled harder, a growl from behind him. If he wound Sendak up enough, then he'd hopefully do it. “Another thing that hasn't changed is your petulance.” Sendak snapped, dropping his legs and pricking him between the ribs with his prosthetic claws. Shiro hissed and rolled instinctively, and was slung over the Commander's shoulder.

 

“ _Put me the fuck down_!” Shiro screamed, trying to flail his legs but failing. He curled his fists up, striking the Commander's back. Every blow seemed to just bounce off. “Why won't you react?” The scream caught in his throat and his eyes burned. He pressed his face against Sendak's shoulder blade and shouted into it, the tears finally free. Sendak remained silent as he placed him down in the sheets. Between blurry eyes, Shiro watched as he removed his gauntlet and climbed over to him. “I'm not rising to this again. You are drunk and emotional.” He pulled Shiro tight against his chest, his organic hand teasing the frayed braid out and began to rake through his soft hair. “I command you to rest, Lieutenant Shirogane.” Shiro sobbed harder, wrapping his arm around Sendak's waist and pushing his face into the body suit.

 

“I'm sorry. I'm a fucking mess.”  
“Sleep.”  
“Yes, Commander.”

 

-

 

“Here.” Sendak passed the mug to the slave as he groggily sat up. He stared at Sendak, then the offered drink and slowly took it in both hands. “Thank you.” His voice was delicate, much like his actions. Sendak nodded and settled down beside him. “Are you feeling less sensitive?”  
“Nope.”  
“I see.” Sendak picked up the tablet and considered the alien language before him. These were apparently the slave's work evaluations, and he was curious about their contents. So much as he could understand the slave through speech, the variety of human language was difficult to translate due to no understanding of the multiple alphabets. Human's had far too many languages. “I would like you to read these to me.”  
“Can I be sick first?” The slave pushed the cup into Sendak's hand and vaulted over his legs off the bed. He stumbled, but ran through the door. Sendak heard his feet hitting the metal, then the bathroom door open in the distance.

 

After ten dobosh's, he returned, leaning against the door frame for support and coughing. “Better?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Come, read these to me.”  
“What is it?”  
“I was hoping you could tell me.” Sendak patted his lap and Shiro slowly climbed up beside him. Sendak pulled him close, slowly rubbing the prosthetic as he handed him the tablet. “I imagine you will recognise it.”  
“I...yeah.” Shiro's hands trembled, of all things, as he held the tablet. The level of information had gone beyond uncomfortable at this point. “They're my bi-annual evaluations. Why do you want me to read these?”  
“I am curious what your superior officers thought of you.”  
“Still, what use is it to you?” Shiro flinched when the hand pulled away and slipped under his chin. He let his head get tilted back, to look at golden and orange eyes. “You said last night you didn't know who you were, so perhaps this would help.” Shiro felt his mouth open, but chose not to speak. _Is this his attempt at helping? No, no that's not...but, we're...trusting him. Give him a chance. He didn't beat the shit out of you for last night when he easily could._ “Okay.”

 

Periodically, Sendak would pause Shiro to make sure he drank. Eventually the two got hungry, and Sendak carried him to the kitchen so he could continue reading. Occasionally he would ask questions, and while they ate, he asked plenty more about what enemies of Earth existed if it was at peace with itself. At times he would laugh about how weak the planet's defences were, but would then explain the problems with using the equipment. The amount of knowledge the Commander had about warfare and technology was terrifying, but at the same time it made perfect sense considering his age. Even Shiro had questions he wanted to ask about the Galran's military, but he didn't want to come across that eager.

 

“After you reading what you have, you would certainly make an excellent soldier for the Empire. Your loyalty, tenacity and ability to push yourself is admirable. You'd also get to see much more of space, like the quadrant I patrol.”  
“So you have patrol routes as well as prisoner transport?”  
“That's correct.” Sendak placed the mug on the table. “I sense you have another question.”  
“I do. I...uh.”  
“Ask me.”  
“Sorry, Commander. You're the Emperor's right hand, and you're part of High Command, yeah?”  
“Correct.”  
“So, to me because of how things were back home, I would have thought you'd be stationed here, because that's important. So, why does such a high-ranking Commander who's probably loyal to a fault, have a job like prisoner transport? It seems beneath your position.” Shiro made himself small in the chair, eyes transfixed to Sendak's expression watching for any tiny changes. _Please don't say I overstepped_.

 

After several painfully long ticks, Sendak exhaled. He thought the slave would ask about his arm before this, but he'd underestimated his perceptiveness it seemed. “That is quite a story, and I think one I shall regale to you.”  
“Even though last night I was a piece of shit?”  
“As you said, you were tired. As you shown, you are emotionally delicate right now. It is forgiven, except you will not try to harm yourself. You will not die dishonourably.” Sendak growled, noting the slave turn rigid under his gaze. Sendak motioned him to follow, and the two wandered through the atrium to go into the right wing. They ended up in the training room, Sendak settling on the bench and held out his prosthetic arm.

 

“Hundreds of deca-phoebs ago I lost my arm.”  
“He...said he took it.” Sendak clenched his claws and noted the squeak beside him. “It is humiliating, but correct.” He grit his teeth and exhaled again. “Back then, I was commanding a mighty fleet. We would take planets in the name of the Emperor and fight in ferocious battles with our enemies. I had been doing that for four thousand deca-phoebs, and I loved every dobosh. Feeling my blood surge in the midst of battle; the thrill was exhilarating. It was not to last, however.” He fell silent as he felt the phantoms he'd kept at bay for deca-phoebs crawl out from the cracks in his mind.

 

“A battle cruiser had been over-ran by rebels and the Blade of Marmora. They wanted to make a trade; the vessel and it's contents, for the freedom of some planets. It was nothing but a supply vessel; but it had our soldiers and valuable quintessence aboard that the High Priestess demanded we retrieve. For myself, though, something far more important was on board that vessel.” He felt a warm hand touch his, and he looked down to see the slave lace his fingers between organic ones. “Sorry, it looked like you needed comforting.” He muttered, looking to the floor. Sendak gave his forehead a small lick and pulled the slave into his lap. “I was not in a right mind to lead that mission and should've deferred, however I was...reckless and enraged. I took the fleet to the meeting point, and as we fell out of our hyper-jump, we found the cruiser we were supposed to retrieve, and something so much worse. A creature called a weblum.”  
“Wait, a _creature_?”  
“Weblum's consume dead planets.” He could have laughed at the whispered curses, but persisted with his story. “The weblum saw the fleet and attacked. It can fire such a mighty energy attack that it vaporised over half the fleet in a single strike. The vessel was also caught in the blast. The remaining fleet scattered, and for the first time in my life I was at a loss. I had no strategy; no plans. In haste I brought the fleet into a trap and suffered heavy losses, and thus Ranveig, a lesser Commander in one of the cruisers, challenged my leadership. The Emperor and High Priestess were incandescent at my failure, and allowed the leadership challenge. You can see the outcome.” Sendak raised his prosthetic bitterly. “As punishment, I was removed from the front lines and placed in a quiet part of the Empire – it barely has any advanced lifeforms, maybe two species? Nothing is an actual threat. It's an insult to my skills, but a reminder of my errors. Transporting prisoners is a way for the Emperor to keep an eye on my behaviour, since I must return to the main fleet rather frequently.”

 

“What's your question? I sense you have another.”  
“I...I'm trying to understand how someone like you could make a tactical error. When you talk about warfare so expertly. I just...can't grasp what could make you act so rash? What was so important on that ship?” Sendak felt his body tense against his chest and he let out a long exasperated sigh. “I'm not going to hurt you.” He gently placed him down and rested his organic elbow on his thigh, placing his painful head in his hand. The wails and screams of the ghosts grew louder. He'd be having nightmares again tonight. “This is the last thing I'll tell you before I require to be left alone until I come for you, you can do as you wish in the house, but under no circumstances are you to disturb me.” Sendak rose and moved to the door. “The most important thing on that vessel was my son.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So outside of tying up the bit about the reports and Ulaz (He's going on holiday soon gdi), I will need to tie up Shiro's thoughts. I need to give him something to live for right now. It's just trying to work out the best way to do it (hence the reports and stuff Sendak made him read, the finding of common ground of doing something for someone you care about and getting fucked over similarities).
> 
> But finally. after 22 chapters, Sendak has called him by his name.  
> Now he will not for ? many chapters.
> 
> I was meaning to make mention of Sendak's dead son back in chapter 17. In the original plan for the chapter, Shiro was going to have grabbed one of the swords and Sendak was going to be really agitated and panicky. In that version, Ranveig was actually the one to kill him for challenging him. You've already met the mother. I kinda thought he's been around forever, and with his position he probably has a lot of ladies wanting to sire him some young (also his political standing helps). Also why does he do prisoner transport? Is it a nod to the original voltron? Who knows.
> 
> Gonna start chapter 23 shortly, see where that takes me. But i hope you enjoyed this, and thank you for taking the time to give it a read.
> 
> Also: actual thulaz content. Finally. Now i need to write them actually boning explicitly. See ya next chapter :) not sure yet on when I can get it out. Next week is possibly busy or not because of work.


	23. Acquiescent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -throws another chapter onto this bonfire-  
> Guess who's putting out another chapter? This idiot here, that's who. So, no gladiator stuff but I have started 24 already and I can confirm that THAT will be a good solid gladiator chapter.
> 
> It's a good thing I don't do chapter summaries, but I think this chapter will have something for everyone. I've got some angst for you, some intrigue, something light-hearted, some fighting, and some porn, and something intense to end the chapter. 
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos, and for coming along for the ride. I'm still in the midst of just dampening out the heaviness, because with what I've got planned over the next ? chapters, the stakes are going to start stacking and stacking and we will see an increase in intensity either with angst or violence. I can't say for certain yet because sometimes things do not go to plan and I need to make sure motivations line up.

Shiro remained sat in the sand for a varga. The revelation Sendak had once had a child wasn't something he could have ever anticipated, let alone him suffering such a huge defeat. Until that moment, the Commander was an invincible force; completely unassailable and unyielding. _Maybe that's where he got that scar from_. He recalled the strange scar that both Sendak and Yastara had, the one he denied. Both had links to the Emperor, so perhaps it was given to those who dissatisfied him? He stretched out his arms and flexed his fingers. Perhaps Sendak's hubris was forced; and his possessiveness and rage was the by-products of being humiliated, and he was trying to hold on to something he no longer had.

 

 _He's still strong – he kept going and took the humiliation and pain._ But he barely seems to address it. _Galra don't seem to address much. A bit like us. We're bad at that; we lie and avoid it just as much._ Is it because we're not strong? _Maybe, or it's because he was right; Earth taught us bad habits. They don't live to the same ethical standard, so why keep applying Earth standards? We're going to be stuck out here for fuck knows how long, possibly forever, and you have to admit, some of the things we've learned have been really interesting._ I mean that's true. I want to pick Hepta's brain about Galran traditions. _Yeah that was pretty interesting. They're not all...terrible._ They still hurt us. _Because we've been hanging on to what was, and not looking at what is. We enjoyed the time in the bathroom, when we finally saw him and had that room. We want that security and the collar back. Remember we decided to give our trust and loyalty to him, and since we've come back, since he saved us I might add, has he laid a finger on us?_ No, but it's when he does. _Because we'd have pissed him off. Last night was a prime time he could have, but he didn't. He didn't rape us, he let us cry into his chest and remained by our side all night._ But what if it's an act? _What if it isn't? We can keep going in circles or we can make a decision. We need to agree something concrete, because right now he's the one stable thing in our life out here. We've damaged our relationship with Matt, the one with Ulaz is fucked up, and we can only worry about whether Sam knows or not. Sendak is here; he is trying it seems. If we keep going on like this, we're going to break so much more._ But then what's our purpose? I don't know what we're even living for any more. _I know, and we need to work that out still. Later, we need to think about what's in front of us, and we need to decide the best course of action._

 

-

 

Sendak sat in his office, eyes unfocused as he stared at the display. There were words there but they were incomprehensible. Some details he couldn't regale to the slave; the ones about the audio feed – the shouts and screams of the crew, then silence. Even to this quintant, he wasn't sure what his son's last words were: he could never make it out from the other screams of fear and calls to retreat. Out of it all, Haxus had been the one to remain at his side. His relationships with the other commander's fell apart, and both him and his mate became distant, throwing themselves into work before the guilt, shifting blame, regret, and disinterest in each other set it. She'd ended it, and he didn't bat an eyelid.

 

He turned off the display, ignoring the reports and pulling open a drawer to the side of his desk. His organic fingers brushed against the small metal holo-projector. He pulled it out and gently set it upon the desk. Pressing the button, he stared mournfully at the images. He should have done more; been there, perhaps helped him unlearn the stubborn characteristics he'd adopted from them that led him to shouting at them both and storming out, adamant he there was no way the rebels or anyone would be able to take their ship. Sendak's gaze softened as he skipped to the next one. He wore his first set of armour there; just starting his stint in the Royal Guard. Gods, he needed a drink.

 

-

 

The kitchen looked like a bomb-site. Sendak arched his brow as he listened to the slaves increasing curses. He had no idea _how_ he could generate this much mess. “What are you trying to do?” He finally asked, stepping in. The slave yelped, turning around, face spattered with some orange-looking juices. “Are you...are you trying to prepare food?”  
“Trying, yes. I don't know what half of this is still. I've not seen it raw.”  
“Do you actually know how to cook? You're not using the right knife to cut the _kest_.”  
“The orange thing?”  
“Yes, the orange thing that's sprayed over your face.” Sendak swiped his claw across the slave's cheek, and brought it to his mouth. “If you want this, fetch me one with a serrated blade.” He watched the slave pace away, checking the counters and sink for the knife. “I can't cook, by the way. I can reheat things and burn stuff.”  
“Then I will show you. I would like you to be able to cook something edible at one point.” Sendak cleared some space, eyeing the filthy blender warily. “What did you put in there?”  
“Uh...it was...” the slave rummaged through some empty packets and handed Sendak one. “That squishy thing.” Sendak gave the packet a bemused look and placed it down. “You tried to blend meat.”  
“I thought it was a fruit – it looked like a peeled lychee.”  
“Gods, you really cannot cook, can you?”  
“I can't read either.” Sendak sighed and pressed himself against the slave, who was in turn was pushed against the counter. “Then let me educate you.”

 

-

 

It had taken about three vargas to make food and eat. Sendak was annoyed he'd made the kitchen a state, and gave him the understandable punishment of washing everything up and cleaning the room in one varga. It had to be spotless, and if Shiro knew anything, it was how to keep things to a high standard. When they were in the barracks, he had to keep his bunk pristine and all other areas clean. His superior officers would come in with white gloves and run their fingers over any surface for dust, and the floors had to be spotless to the point you could eat off them. He was always fine, because both his parents were fastidious with keeping things tidy.

 

“Did you do much earlier?” Sendak watched him from the doorway. “Just some exercises and practised my forms. I was thinking a lot otherwise.” He replied nonchalantly, frowning at a stain on the counter top he'd missed. “Then I had a flick back through the tablet you gave me. It's jarring, seeing how I was then compared to now.”  
“Do you miss it?”  
“Of course I do. I had freedom; a life.”  
“No one is ever truly free.”  
“Well no. I suppose I mean control then. I don't have that.”  
“You have control over some aspects, like earlier.”  
“I guess so. Maybe a little more lately since you brought me back.” Shiro, finally pleased he had defeated the stain, turned and leaned against the counter. “I just wonder if it'll last.”  
“It'll last for however long you remain behaved, as I have previously said. If you lash out like last night again, then next time you will be punished.”  
“I'm still surprised you didn't. I mean I hit you.”  
“You did, but they were like tiny taps. It was noticeable something was wrong with you last night.” Sendak stepped over the threshold, inspecting his work.

 

“Your work is adequate.” Sendak motioned the slave to follow him. They wandered through the quarters until they reached the training room. “I thought a sparring session would do us both some good.”  
“I think that was a good call, Commander.” The slave gave him a small smile as he followed at his heels. “It'll also be a good time to look at reforming you. You recall what you asked me?” Sendak watched the slave pause, clearly searching his memories. “I...think so. I was talking about Earth, when I told you I was scared of enjoying anything with you.” He shifted on his feet, clearly recalling the rest of it as he reached for his neck. “You still want the collar back?”  
“I...yes.”  
“You don't sound as convincing as before.” Sendak let the inhibitor fall to the floor. “Have you perhaps changed your mind?”  
“No! No, I've just had a lot going on in my head. Of course I do, I swore myself to you – I still fear you won't forgive me.” He gave Sendak a wide-eyed stare, mouth slightly agape.

 

“It's just,” Sendak trailed his claw over Shiro's lip, “you seem so scared compared to the last few movements.” There was that purr again. “I don't want to fail you.”  
“I see.” He let his claw linger before pulling away, “then you will defeat Champion. I will forgive you if do so and re-collar you.” Shiro remained staring at Sendak like he was mad. “L-Last time he almost killed me!”  
“Almost is the important word there.” Sendak grinned, taking a fighting stance. He wasn't wearing his prosthetic gauntlet, but the regular one. Shiro quickly assumed a fighting position, wondering just how Sendak was going to fight with this arm. “Begin!” He shouted, and Shiro launched himself forward, hand glowing and drawn back as he brought it round to strike at the Commander's thigh. Sendak dodged, and he heard a small chuckle from above as he was forced to the ground. “Try again.” That purr fired Shiro up. _Oh, I'll try as many times as it takes._

 

-

 

Shiro's arms were pinned behind his back as his body hit the sand with a dull thud. He groaned, pushing his hips up against Sendak, who was sat across them. He could hear the low chuckle rumble in his gut. “You got a scratch in.”  
“You're bleeding.” Shiro retorted, lips pulled back to reveal his teeth. He was pumped up on adrenaline, and his heart was beating hard in his chest. “But it's like a scratch. “ Sendak leaned down to purr in his ear, his sharp teeth brushing against his exposed shoulder. Shiro growled, trying to pull his arms back. “Oh, you still want to fight?”  
“Of course!” Shiro struggled under his weight, bucking his hips up and tugging harder at his arms. “Tell me why.”  
“Because I fucking live for this.” _Just fucking let me up, stop monologuing._ He felt Sendak push himself off, and Shiro quickly rolled away back up onto his knees, flicking his arm out like he was slashing a drawn blade.

 

The slave's eyes held a beautiful frenzied look about them that pleased Sendak to no end. “You get one more hit, where're you aiming?” Sendak smirked as the slave screeched and ran low towards him. He was coming in to make another strike at his waist. Sendak let himself drop lower to the ground, knees bent ready to push back at the prosthetic came round to strike his arm. Those eyes glittered at him like he _knew_. The slave never swung his hand against the arm, instead he dipped to the side and punched into his chest armour. Almost instantly, the hand deactivated, the slave panting heavily as he stared at the cracks in the armour.

 

Sendak purposefully curled each individual finger around Shiro's shoulder, digging his claws in. Shiro didn't want to look up, but lifted his head to lock eyes with the Commander. “You struck me as if to kill.” His tone was unreadable. Shiro swallowed but held his gaze. “You always say I need to look for the quickest way to end the fight.”  
“That is correct.” The grip tightened and Shiro could feel the claws pierce his skin. He winced at the pain, but continued to keep the Commander's gaze. “So what now?” He whispered.

 

Sendak swept his legs out from under him, and Shiro fell back into the sand. He felt it stick to his open wounds and hissed out in pain. The Commander dropped to his knees and dragged his claws down Shiro's chest, the fabric shredding in their wake. _Fuck._ Shiro arched his back into the touch, Sendak pausing as he reached his hips. “Are you going to punish me?”  
“I'm actually rather proud of you right now.” Sendak purred, trailing his claws over his thighs, ripping the material. “So why would I want to punish you?”  
“I cracked your armour.”  
“I suppose you did.” Sendak pressed his thumbs into the space between his legs, kneading the sensitive thighs slowly. Shiro groaned, spreading them wider when the claw tips pressed against the skin. He could feel the heat pool in his gut, and Sendak clearly noticed.

 

He slowly trailed his hand over the slave's naked stomach and chest, letting his palm enjoy all the curves and dips of the solid muscle below the surface. The slave writhed under his touch, which was certainly enjoyable to watch. He paused at his throat, squeezing it tight before releasing. Sendak leaned down to drag his claws over the slave's cheek and tangled his hand in the knotted hair, roughly digging his claws in. “I have a very enjoyable punishment lined up.” Sendak smirked as he yanked the slave up sharply, forcing him along by the hair and out of the room.

 

Sendak forced him into a small cell with freezing metal floors. Shiro cried out as his body was pressed up against the wall and his arms pinned against his back. He felt the remaining fabric ripped from around his body and tied roughly around his hands. Sendak kept him in place by pushing his knee between Shiro's thighs, and he couldn't help but grind his hips against them. “C-Commander, _fuck_.”  
“You wanted this,” Sendak purred in his ear, “you asked about punishment.”  
“Yeah,” Shiro breathed, whining when Sendak's heat pulled away. “Stay _exactly_ where you are.” Sendak ordered, and Shiro watched him leave the room, the heavy door slamming shut behind him.

 

A varga later, the door finally opened, smashing against the wall behind him. Shiro felt rough claws around his wrists. The fabric was pulled away and something metal replaced it, clicking into place. His prosthetic was pushed into the wall, and the inhibitor placed back on. “You were very good for not breaking free when you so easily could.” Sendak's cool voice was hot against his neck, making chills run down Shiro's spine. “I-”  
“No talking, slave.” Shiro felt something soft pushed into his mouth. At a guess it was likely the tattered remains of the body suit that had been tied around his wrists. “I want to hear your desperate whines and whimpers of need.” Shiro bowed his head, pushing his hips backwards in answer. _It's been movements, just fuck me up._ “Good boy.”

 

Sendak struck the back of the slave's thighs with a narrow crop, and it earned him a sharp whine as the skin reddened. He struck over and over; the only sounds that of the crop slicing through the air, the smack, and the whines. After ten dobosh's he took a step back to admire the red marks and trembling body as his slave panted. “Such a good boy.” Sendak purred as he placed it down and pulled the slave around by the shoulder to face him. He stroked the side of his face, watching as he leaned into the touch. “It's good to see you enjoy this.” Sendak tugged at the hoop at the end of the piercing, the slave squeaking as he pushed himself upwards. “I told you it'd be better, didn't I?” He nodded his head slowly, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.

 

“Turn back around and lean against the wall. You will not break the position.” Sendak ordered, and Shiro complied. He heard the Commander move behind him and claws trace around his entrance. He moaned around the fabric as Sendak teased his hole, before pulling his hand away. His body felt cold for a few ticks until a slick finger pushed its way in, and he moaned at the warm touch as the Commander probed his insides. Another finger pushed itself in. They curled and stretched him, and Shiro felt his body relax against the invasion. Sendak chuckled above him, and the prosthetic snaked around his front to toy with his stiff cock. It was hard not to break position; he wanted to lean back into his touch and buck his hips, but the Commander had issued orders and that was priority over what he wanted to do. _The Commander knows best._ He let out needy whimpers and gasped through the fabric. _Just fuck me up._

 

He started to wonder if Sendak was a mind reader, because he pulled his fingers out and they were very quickly replaced with something hot, large and slick. It pressed against his entrance, but from this angle it was tight and painful. Regardless, Sendak pushed himself in and Shiro's back arched as he let out a heady moan. Sendak purred in response as he dug his fingers roughly into his hips and set a quick pace fucking him. “You are exquisitely tight from this angle.” Even Sendak seemed surprised, the faintest hint of satisfaction escaping his lips, as Shiro felt his ass cheeks spread apart. Shiro could only moan his agreement loudly as the ridges rubbed against his hyper-sensitive insides; each movement driving him just a little more crazy, a little more desperate for Sendak to just fuck him on his knees like a dog. _At least it's Sendak. It's not those bastards from the brothel._

 

With each thrust, the slave came a little more undone beneath him. Sendak was pleased he remained standing, even if he was trying to get him to falter. He forced his fingers under the fabric gag, chuckling at all the saliva the slave had made, then pulled them out. He took the slave's cock between the wet fingers and set to working the leaking cock. The slave whimpered, hips automatically rolling towards the touch. Sendak snarled and bit down against the his shoulder as he felt his release build.

 

The angle that Sendak was hitting was really good for his prostate, but not for his bladder. Having an erection really didn't help either. Shiro moaned and mewled, body trembling under the Commander's sharp thrusts and expert hands. He was getting close, and Sendak kneading his balls wasn't helping. He let his face rest against the wall, appreciating the coldness against his sweaty and filthy skin. He felt the Commander's swollen cock twitch inside him as it struck his prostate, and Shiro's body shuddered as he saw stars. He felt his own hot come splash against his stomach, the rest dripping down the head. Sendak let out a deep snarl and Shiro felt him empty himself. The battle wounds and those from the sex were sore, but the post-coitus high was good. Sendak was too good to him.

 

He felt a rough tongue lap against his shoulder. “You've been very good at receiving your punishment.” It sounded like Sendak was trying to regain his own breath. The fabric was pulled from his mouth and dropped to the floor, and Shiro could finally catch his own. “C-Commander. I-”  
“Wait.” He purred huskily, and slowly Sendak pulled out. Shiro hissed as the length was removed, but squeaked when he felt something new press inside him. “You can keep that in while you clean up.” Sendak clicked his claws and Shiro pushed himself away from the wall with his torso and carefully dropped to his knees as he took the offered cock in his mouth. Shiro worked his length, cleaning him thoroughly, before pulling himself off and letting Sendak push his fingers in, eyes glued to his face. “You make me want to take you again.”  
“I wouldn't complain.”  
“I know,” Sendak eased his claws from Shiro's mouth, trailing them over his lips, “because your body is mine.”  
“It is.” He hummed in appreciation as Sendak teased his hair.

 

“You can clean up the mess you've made.” Sendak grabbed him under both shoulders and planted him in front of the wall, holding him by the hair. “Clean.”  
“Yes, Commander.” The slave licked his lips before lapping at the messy trails he'd made. As he needed to go further, Sendak pressed his head down and kept the plug in place, twitching the end and earning pathetic whimpers. “Good boy.” He was still impressed with the lack of push-back, and it'd been over half a phoeb ago. He truly had learned his place, at least when it came pleasing him.

 

“Commander, may I...use the bathroom please?” The slave rolled his shoulders, looking hopeful at Sendak. He studied him and slowly pulled him up, before pressing him back against the wall. Sendak softly stroked the skin of his cock. “You can here.”  
“I-It'll get everywhere, please-”  
“Here, or I'll put you on your shoulders and press your bladder until you piss on your own face.” He growled low in the slave's ear. There was an almost inaudible squeak. “It's part of your punishment.” Sendak let his prosthetic fingers toy with the plug, until he felt the body relax. His slave let out a few sobs, as he allowed himself to be humiliated. Keeping his word, Sendak remained in place, giving tiny licks against the bite wound from earlier. “There, that must feel better.” He wiped his hand into the slave's skin. “You remember from the last time how to clean it up. Then go get yourself a shower. Tonight, you can cut your hair for being so well-behaved.” Sendak released the cuffs and watched his slave sink to the floor.

 

“What do you say?”  
“Thank you, Commander, for being so lenient.”  
“You understand this is part of reforming you, yes?”  
“I do, sir.”  
“I will be in my office. Come find me once you are clean. You can remove the plug once you have your shower.”  
“Yes, Commander, thank you.” The slave bowed low, and Sendak gave a contented purr. He put his cock away and left him knelt in the room. Humiliation was the key to making sure his slave remembered who was in control; for all the 'nice' things Sendak could do or be, his slave needed to remember not to get comfortable. Life would eat him alive if it did.

 

-

 

“Did you submit it?” Thace draped his arms around Ulaz's neck. Ulaz leaned back into the touch, exhaling the smoke and watching it billow in front of the screen. “Yeah, both of them. I detest every word I had to write.”  
“I thought Shiro's one was supportive of his health?”  
“Oh it is.” Ulaz looked up, “however if I know the Commander, he'll do the exact opposite of it. Him and Haggar are planning something, I don't know if it's between them or separate, that's the thing.” Ulaz paused.  
“You'll have to do some digging. Maybe see if you can make Shiro tell you anything?”  
“It's just hoping I don't have to push much.”

 

Their conversation was broken by the radio static changing to a low hum. They scrabbled for the pen and pad, and settled in front of the ancient radio. It started with a sharp tone, then an automated voice spoke.  
“Zero-nine-seven, five-eight-one-one-three, nine-zero-zero-two-four-seven. Six-six-eight-one-zero-five-nine.” There was another sharp tone and then the static returned. Ulaz stared at the notes and nodded to himself slowly as he reached for his bag, the two of them settling down at the table and sharing the Galra Empire's Code of Conduct book between them. Ulaz pulled out a thick book and set it beside them. They caught each others stares, and Ulaz took Thace's hand in his. “Let's see what it says.”

 

-

 

Sendak was about to close his display for the evening when an alert flashed in the corner. Sighing, he clicked it to find a holiday request along with the forwarded medical report for the slave. He sniffed and typed out a message to Ulaz. He'd need to discuss the report with him anyway, so he could just confirm the holiday then and there. There was a knock at the door, and Sendak checked the time. He'd taken quite a while to sort everything out. Hopefully the slave wasn't going to be difficult or too delicate.

 

“Enter.”  
Shiro pushed the door open and fastened the towel tighter around his hips. He felt better at least getting to cut his hair back, and get rid of the stubble again. “You look much cleaner.”  
“I feel it.”  
“Are you delicate right now?” Sendak motioned him to settle opposite him, and Shiro paced over, sitting carefully in the large chair. “Not as much as I would have been. As said before, the time out there taught me a lot.”  
“I'm pleased to hear that.” Sendak placed his hands on the desk, giving him a glance over.

 

“I'm not sure if I prefer you with longer hair or when it's neat-looking like this.”  
“I prefer it this way.”  
“There's not as much to grab, that's the only thing.”  
“Well,” Shiro leaned his elbows on the desk and pushed himself forward, “there's always this bit.” He pointed to his fringe, the white streak looking a little more pronounced. Sendak toyed with the hair, brow furrowing. “Is your hair supposed to turn this colour? Is this normal? Ulaz and I have noticed it.”  
“Today was the first time it's registered. Sure, human hair will naturally go grey or white over time but...not like this.”  
“I will be inviting Ulaz over to discuss your final medical report. We shall ask him then.” Shiro felt his face drop at the name, Sendak noting the change. “I know he searched your memories, but you must realise he was very vocal about being the one to do it, for you. The High Priestess and I would have chosen a Druid, but he was explicit in stating your mental health would get worse if we did.” Sendak rose from his chair. “He might frustrate me, but his loyalty is unquestionable. He does spoil you as well,” Sendak smirked as he ruffled Shiro's hair. “You're the first one he's really got on with, and this pleases me.”

 

Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat as he followed Sendak out. The Commander took them back to the bedroom, and like usual, he dropped Shiro into the sheets as he stripped off his armour and body suit. “You really did crack it, didn't you? I am thoroughly pleased with you.” He grinned, settling down and pulling Shiro on top of him. “You will defeat Champion, mark my words.” He pressed Shiro's head into his chest, while with his free hand, tugged the towel off from around his waist and smoothed his rear. Shiro rubbed his face into the fur. _At least he's pleased with me._ He let out a small squeak when a claw teased his entrance.

 

-

 

Ulaz fiddled with the bodysuit around his neck as he stood outside the Commander's door. He was anxious being here because Shiro'd be here, and he dreaded to think how that interaction would go. At least Sendak would have collared him again. He was far too possessive to let anyone have a chance of harming his slaves. “Officer, it's good to see you early as usual.” He hadn't realised the door had opened, and he quickly stood to attention. “Good morning, Commander!”  
“It is a _fine_ morning, isn't it?” Sendak gave him a toothy smirk and motioned him inside.

 

He followed the Commander through to his office, but there was presently no signs of Shiro. “Is he training?” Ulaz queried. Sendak gave him an even wider grin as he tapped the top of the desk. Ulaz felt his stomach drop when he leaned down to see Shiro sat underneath it, naked, and in a very different collar to what he was expecting. The look he gave Ulaz was that of pure fear. _Don't look at me like that, please._ He noted the chains leading from hooped nipple piercings to the cock piercing. They were all connected to the loop in the leather collar around his neck. His lips looked swollen and wet. He could guess why Sendak had a 'fine' morning. “Did you see the bell?” He pressed his foot between Shiro's legs and prodded his cock with it. It made a soft jingle while Shiro made a soft whine. “I am sure you must be pleased, Commander.” Ulaz ripped his gaze away as he settled down. He could hear Shiro move thanks to the bell, while the Commander sat and got comfortable.

 

“It's a surprise for you to want so much leave at once. I can give you it, of course, but just curious what's happened.” Sendak offered Ulaz a glass and he smiled, taking it and pouring some water. “It's not so much that anything's happened – not with my family this time anyway – I think it's just been rather hectic these last few movements...phoebs really, and I just need to take a break.”  
“So over-worked.”  
“Yes. You do create a lot for me.” Ulaz offered a wry smile and Sendak chuckled. “I suppose I do, and I will concede you have been busy. You've gone above and beyond my expectations, even if at times they can seem a little meddlesome.”  
“If I wasn't so meddlesome, I'm certain the slave would be in a worse state.”  
“I concur. I don't know what I would do without you, and Haxus of course.”  
“Commander, I am here to do my duty.” Ulaz bowed his head. Internally screaming and wanting to flip the desk, grab Shiro, and run.

 

“How has he been?”  
“We had an incident two quintants' ago. He wanted me to kill him.”  
“That's in line with part of my report.”  
“Yes, I did note that,” Sendak sniffed as he brought it up. “As I was reading it, I became a bit concerned with what input I may struggle with. With meetings starting again shortly, I'm concerned that I may not be about for much of the day-cycle. Since his species is social, my concern is that he may spiral.”  
“Well won't he have training?”  
“I'd need someone to take him down and likely bring him back, that's the thing.”  
“What about Officer Hepta? Would he not be taking Ladnok's slave?”  
“That...is actually a point I'd not considered. Slave, would you like to see Officer Hepta?” There was a brief pause. “I am always happy to see Officer Hepta, Commander.”  
“I'll have a chat with him and Ladnok then. Would you not be able to do some quintants?” Sendak cocked his head to the side.

 

Ulaz fiddled with his claws under the desk. “Well, I did schedule my leave from next movement, and I'm working an advisory role for the High Priestess-”  
“She'll likely be fine if I ask her.” Sendak shrugged. “It also gives you time to talk to him, and see how he's doing. He does like your company.”  
“Well, if you ask I'm happy to do it.”  
“You'd be happy, won't you?” Sendak asked Shiro again. This time there was a longer pause. “If it would please the Commander, then yes.”  
“Good boy.” Ulaz winced at the patronising tone.

 

The two discussed aspects of the report above. Shiro remained focused on the Commander's cock in front of him, running his fingers over each individual ridge and tracing the veins. He'd left tiny teeth marks against the flesh and gave them small flicks with his tongue. His jaw ached and having Ulaz around made him uncomfortable, but at least the Commander was here. He was safe.  
“My biggest concern is Champion. I don't trust him around my slave.” Shiro lazily licked the underside, listening carefully.  
“In what way?”  
“Well he's a rebel at his core, and likely working with the Blade of Marmora. I am concerned he may try and coerce my slave for information.” Shiro's entire body tensed up, tongue against Sendak's swollen head. _No, no, no. Please don't, please don't say-_  
“I saw nothing like that in his memories. I would have alerted you then and there.” Ulaz replied coolly. “I know. It would be a shame if we had to kill him. Especially after all this time and investment.”  
“I agree. It would feel like a waste. But, I think your slave is quite perceptive. I doubt he would do something so reckless.” Shiro let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

 

“Are you alright down there?” Sendak pushed his claws into his fringe. “Y-Yes. My jaw aches a little.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, Commander.” Shiro made sure to sound more confident in his reply. _Don't give yourself away, even if it is tempting to drop him in it along with you._ “Fair enough. I will type up a response later, but I have two final questions, if you don't mind indulging me.”  
“Of course, Commander.”  
“His hair is turning white. There's a larger segment now then before. Would you know why?”  
“Can I take a look?”  
“Of course. Slave, go to Officer Ulaz.” Sendak released his grip on his hair and Shiro reluctantly crawled a little to rest in front of Ulaz's feet.

 

Ulaz pushed himself back in the chair and bent down to take a look. Grey eyes met his. He brushed his fingers through the hair, gently easing the strands between them. The affected area had indeed grown. “There's two things I can think of: either it's caused by stressors, which makes sense considering the past few phoebs, or it's quintessence. You recall that the Empress's hair turned white while she worked on the rift?”  
“I recall seeing it with my own eyes.” Sendak replied. “Regardless, I don't think I can give you a diagnosis, however his quintessence levels in the labs were quite high even though he wasn't always in the tank.”  
“That may explain my next query. Here, take a look at this.” Ulaz kept his gaze purely on the white strands, and tried to offer Shiro a small smile. All he received was a scowl.

 

With a thud, Ulaz looked up to see the cracked armour. “What happened to that?”  
“He did. We were sparring last night and while his arm was activated, he struck my armour. I appreciate the arm is weaponised, but this seems a bit too much considering the reports of his physical.”  
“It's lucky the strike was where it was.” Ulaz pulled the armour closer as he inspected it, noting the scorch marks around the centre of the dent. “I can't say unless I was there, however there looks like there was a lot of force behind the blow. I'd be interested in seeing him spar some time...may I?”  
“You can spar with him yourself if you please. It'll be good practice for him.” Sendak paced around and looked down at him and Shiro. “He does enjoy fighting. Which is why when he defeats Champion, he can have his collar back.” Sendak clicked his claws. Ulaz watched Shiro crawl out and settle against his leg, the bell jingling as he moved, drawing his body in close as he closed his eyes.

 

“I've decided you may start your leave now if you so wish. I'll let the High Priestess know you won't be around.”  
“I would...very much appreciate that. I will be ignoring work mail, if that's alright?”  
“Of course.” Sendak watched as Ulaz rose, picking up his small satchel. He nudged his quiet slave, “say farewell to Officer Ulaz, you've barely spoken a word all morning.”  
“Apologies, Commander.” He nuzzled against Sendak's leg, before lifting his gaze to Ulaz. “Goodbye, Officer Ulaz, sir.”  
“Return to your position, I shall be back soon.” The slave nodded and watched them leave.

 

As they reached the door, Sendak placed his hand on Ulaz's shoulder. “For the record. If you ever wanted to,” he gestured back into his quarters, “play about with him, you have my consent.”  
“I,” Ulaz blinked, “h-he's yours, Commander, I would never dare touch your property.”  
“I know, which is why I've given you consent to _if you so wish_. I'm sure he'll get over you rooting about in his head in time. I can sense his tenseness.”  
“I hope so as well.” He offered a weak smile and turned on his heel, “thank you, Commander. It does mean a lot that you can trust me with him.”  
“Trust works both ways, and I trust you completely.” Sendak gave him a small salute, and Ulaz gave him one back. “Vrepit sa.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are!
> 
> I don't think, canonically, Shiro would be /that/ bad in the kitchen, but it's fun to imagine he's never actually cooked anything much a day in his life (having his mum make him lunch and then joining the Garrison...take outs and then Adam cooking). I'll concede it is likely a bit OOC, but I just wanted something silly in to be honest.
> 
> I almost nearly made Sendak order Shiro to blow Ulaz, but decided against it for now? Do I probably have something better planned? Possibly. Will it be painful? Likely, I guess? 
> 
> Also!! I got excited about number stations (I was reading about them again yesterday at work), and thought that it would be awesome to have Ulaz and Thace listen in for their orders. I've had a chat with my friend, as originally I was uncertain about how far the waves could travel, but I suppose the Blades have 1) multiple bases stationed around the Empire/universe, 2) would use a 'defunct' by Galra standards means of contact that could be easily misread for some other deep space noise (at least how the waves are), and 3) I really love the idea of intricate codes that require a few books to crack. So yeeeah, Ulaz is off out of Central. That will either have a chapter or half a chapter dedicated to him, but i'm not sure yet. I may have it as a variety of scenes, but you'll get it.
> 
> But ayy. Some interesting developments coming along :) I can't wait to hear what you think. See ya next chapter!


	24. Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be some stuff again about his training days, but this is the real reason i wanted to start this fic, however as said before I think, it's turned into something else then what my original intentions were, which I'm actually happier with in the long run. What you want isn't always what you really want, or at least that's what life has shown me. I enjoyed this chapter, and getting him to bond with some non-galra. Of course he's still going to struggle and they certainly aren't /friends/, but this is giving Shiro more exposure to different aliens and cultures.
> 
> I'm a little sad about one character, admittedly, but it's mostly just because I've enjoyed writing them and their dynamic with Shiro. However they were always walking a razors edge, and stuck around much longer then I planned. 
> 
> I know my update schedule has been pretty manic lately in that I've piled about three chapters on here over maybe...4 days? Sorry for clogging up your inboxes, but I get just a little excited :)
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos - and welcome again to new readers. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

“Young master, lemme just fix ya armour.” Kaleska bent down and corrected the bottom of Hepta's armour. “Urgh, don't _nanny_ me!” Hepta whined, but a small grin teased his lips as he pressed his head against her crest. She chuckled, patting Hepta on the shoulder. “Can't letcha out like that! Mistress would scold me somethin' fierce!”  
“I won't let her scold you.” Hepta gave her a warm smile and wrapped his arms around her large waist. “I'm glad you're here.”  
“I'm glad I am too, young master.” Kaleska stroked his face like a mother would soothe a child. “I'm happy the Commander's letting me take you down to the arena! It's just weird we have to take you on a leash.” He turned to Shiro, who was hovering near the door awkwardly. “I...tried to escape once.”  
“Ahh, that explains it.” Hepta nodded knowingly. “That's a shame. I hope one day you won't need it.”  
“We'll see in time.” Shiro offered a half-smile as Kaleska came over to fix the energy rope. She ruffled his hair softly. “Young master, you must lead him.”  
“I know,” Hepta huffed as he took the end. “Let me know if I tug too hard, okay?”  
“I...will.” Shiro was surprised by this kindness. Usually it was keep up with Sendak or get dragged along.

 

The three walked and chatted about various things. Hepta finally pressed him about instruments, and Shiro was left trying to remember what he'd reeled off before he was repeating himself. It felt like the journey took less time than normal as they arrived at the doors to the arena. “Let's get you both signed in. I have to get to work quickly – hopefully the Druid's won't be angry.”  
“They should be fine, young master, just remember to be honest.” Kaleska soothed as she unclipped Shiro's leash and collar. Hepta motioned them to walk in and jogged over to the sign-ins.

 

“He's still so young,” Kaleska sighed, watching Hepta excitedly greet the just as excited receptionist. “You seem to get on really well.” Shiro said, glancing up at her. “Well, I've been around him since he was born. After his and Ladnok's mother died, I practically raised him.” Kaleska looked sorrowfully at the ground. “She was my previous mistress.”  
“I'm sorry to hear that.” Shiro watched Hepta along with Kaleska. “So how old is he?”  
“Ya ask me a difficult question! Le'see...it's almost mistress's five-thousandth birth celebration, so that means the young master is just turnin' a thousand deca-phoebs old in the next two phoebs.”  
“Isn't that when we all fight each other?”  
“I think so?” Kaleska stroked her chin. “Will have ta check and get back to ya, Tiny.”  
“Please, use Shiro.”  
“Can't help it, ya so tiny and I wanna mother ya!” She picked him up, tracing her fingers over his neck.

 

“Where's ya collar gone, by the way?” Her bright green eyes grew dark quickly.  
“Sendak...took it. I won't get it back unless I defeat Nadiva.”  
“What did he do to ya?” She placed him back on the floor, putting her hands on her hips and cast him a stern look. Under that gaze, she really did look like a mother. “He...sent me to the Ragnar ring – I was there for five movements in a brothel with Nadiva – and then I've been with the Druids up until...” he counted on his hand, “four quintants' ago.” He couldn't lie to her because she was so genuine, and like him, a slave. She studied him for a few moments with her hawk-like gaze before nodding slowly. “I'm sorry to hear that. Ya must have had a rough time. Can only imagine what ya went through, and I don't think I'd scratch the surface. I'm sorry for bein' so stern with ya.” She bent down and bowed her head. “P-please, you don't need to be so kind. I-It's fine. I'm...in a better place.” He offered her a smile, and she nodded slowly. “Lemme know if ya need a break, alrigh'?”  
“I will, Rudiarius.” He offered her a tiny smirk as Hepta waved them over and ushered them in.

 

-

 

Shiro cocked his head as Banlu and Kaleska waved him over. Zestera glancing up from their food briefly before glowering at Shiro and turning their attention back to stabbing at the contents of the bowl. “Sit,” Kaleska patted the seat next to her and Shiro settled, placing the bowl on the small table. “Ya enjoyin' fightin' again?”  
“Yeah, it's nice not training with just Sendak or Hepta.” Shiro cast Zestera a sharp look, lip twitching in irritation as they snorted derisively. He noted Banlu jab Zestera in the ribs with their sharp elbows, mouthing something at them. “Ah ya, the young master came back filthy after your skirmishes.” Kaleska's lips tugged into a fond smile as she pushed the food round the bowl. “He mewled for a bowl of sugared _kest_ when he got home. The mistress was not happy with him.”

 

“He's immature for a soldier.” Zestera glanced at Kaleska, yellow eyes narrowed into slits. “He needs more discipline.”  
“He's nothin' but a babe. Don't be so harsh!” Kaleska admonished, her rumble reverberating around the table. “He's almost a thousand deca-phoebs old. He should know better.”  
“He's recoverin'!” Kaleska drew herself up to full height baring down over them. Zestera glared at her and sighed. “I can't talk to you when you're like this.”  
“Ya star'd it!” Banlu's shrill voice cut through the air like a knife. She grabbed Zestera by the shoulders and pulled them towards her, nostrils flared. “Why you actin' like a bellen'?”  
“I don't like _that thing there._ ” Zestera jabbed their finger at Shiro, who gave them a confused look, spoon in his mouth. He swallowed the food down and rose from the seat, pacing slowly around to stand in front of Zestera.

 

“So what's the problem?” Shiro crossed his arms over his chest, lips curled downwards. Back on Earth he'd deal with this differently, but here it was much harder to use calm words in such an aggressive society. That, and Zestera had always been casting him venomous glares whenever he saw them. Zestera snorted and pushed themself up, drawing close to Shiro's face until they were millimetres apart. “You attacked your kin.” They pushed his shoulder, Shiro took it. “You only won on _luck_ against Myzax.” The spit sprayed over his face, and Shiro wiped it away. “He was _my kill_.”  
“So why didn't you do it sooner?” Shiro raised his eyebrow, placing a hand on his hip. “I attacked Matt because I knew he'd die in the arena. I _saved him_ from this. Killing Myzax? That was skill, not luck.”  
“You're a fucking _disgrace_. Barely ever here, too busy getting your ass fucked by that cu-” Shiro flashed his teeth and grabbed Zestera by the folds of their wrap. Twisting his body, Shiro threw the alien clean over his shoulder to the hard ground. He clenched his fist tight, feeling the hand power up. “Don't you talk about shit you don't know anything about!” Shiro snarled, launching himself at the heap on the floor.

 

The breath was knocked out of Shiro when he was floored by a huge weight. “Shiro, get yaself back in line! Zestera, cut the shit. If both of ya act this way, ya gonna taste my axe. Ya understand?” Kaleska roared. The others in the hall watched the commotion from their seats, and the room filled with whispers and judgemental or curious stares. Shiro was eventually allowed up. Zestera scowled at him, then Kaleska, before stalking away, grabbing his sword as he pushed the doors open with a bang. Shiro narrowed his eyes at him, his gaze reaching Nadiva who leaned against the back wall. He watched him follow Zestera out.

 

-

 

“I'm not surprised he's behind the technology.”  
“Neither am I. It just surprised me they had the resources to create something so destructive. If we could get the blueprints for that cannon, defending the Empire would be amazingly simple with the pure range it has. I'm sure we could improve upon its capabilities.”  
“That, or we salvage it. Get him back again.”  
“You know I'd have to carry him again on my ship.”  
“I'm sure the _patient_ Sen-Sen I know would be able to hold his temper, like always.” Gnov's lips drew up into a pert grin. Sendak barked out a laugh. “Impudent wench.”  
“Insufferable bastard.” Gnov jabbed his side with her elbow, Sendak grunting as he rubbed the area. She turned, a few paces in front, “you should remember not to let your guard down.” Gnov laughed in that musical way she always did, casting his a provocative look before turning on her heel. “Come along, Commander, I don't have all quintant for your dawdling.”

 

The playful conversation came to an abrupt end as they entered the hall to see the Rudiarius stood with her massive hands on both of their slaves. Her imposing figure rigid. Sendak and Gnov cast each other awkward glances before striding over.  
“Gladiators, greet ya masters.” Her voice rumbled, and both slaves bowed low, arms across their chests. She followed suit afterwards, and exhaled. “I'm sorry to bear ya both such bad news, but we had an incident with these two earlier. 'Though I've punished 'em both,” she squeezed both their shoulders, and both slaves reluctantly turned to show raw backs, “anythin' further falls within ya personal preferences.” She firmly pushed them both forward, handing the lead to Sendak.

 

“I would like to know what happened.” Gnov gave Zestera a disapproving glare before turning her attention back to Rudiarius. “It started with Zestera here disrespectin' a Galra Officer, then escalated when Shiro 'ere squared up to him. Shit was spewed, and Shiro tossed his fellow gladiator to the floor and activated that arm.” Rudiarius glanced down at it, Sendak noting the fearful look in those bright eyes. It took a lot to scare the Rudiarius; she'd by far seen the most out of all of the present gladiators. He'd need to pick her brain in private at some point. “I ain't standin' for disrespect in this hallowed arena. Friendly rivalry? Fine. Tryin' kill each other, nah. You're gladiators, not murderers.” Sendak felt his slave shift a little closer at the latter comment.

 

“In a vedashell, I can pair 'em up or keep 'em apart, let 'em scrap it out, or leave it in your hands.” Kaleska looked between the two Commanders in front of her, both considering their slaves. Finally, Gnov answered; “I would be happy to make them work together. Sendak?”  
“Might as well. You'll be training together, and you can _learn_ to get on.” Kaleska gave them an approving smile. It was likely that both Commanders were using this as a punishment for them both, but as far as being a slave went, she held a good standing with most of the Commanders. Champion's was always difficult, but then he always looked at her like a piece of meat. That was the one thing she had been eternally lucky with since she was captured. “On a more personal note, in two movements Commander Ladnok will be five-thousand deca-phoebs old. Would you both be free to attend the celebrations?”  
“Providing I'm not busy with work, I should be able to attend.” Gnov offered a smile. She looked to Sendak, who gave her a sharp nod. “It'll be good to get out.”  
“Slaves are welcome, as well as any additional guests. Just let myself, or the you- Officer Hepta, know.” She rumbled, before offering them both a salute.

 

-

 

Sendak pushed Shiro into the cell, closing the door behind him. “Explain, now.” Shiro watched the prosthetic claws activate as be backed up against the wall, a bead of sweat running down the side of his cheek. “They insulted me! Was about to call you something awful! They were bad-mouthing Officer Hepta and angering Kaleska, then they started on me! I'm not taking that from them – not someone like Yastara!”  
“You know?”  
“Know what?” Shiro watched the claws deactivate. “Gnov's dreck of a slave was Yastara's kin.” Sendak leaned against the door, eyes focused on Shiro.  
“I mean, they look almost identical, how could I not guess they were related?”  
“Do they know what happened to their kin?”  
“I don't know – all Zestera seemed to be annoyed about was the fact I killed Myzax. Apparently that was their kill.” Shiro rubbed his eyes.

 

“I lost it when they said I was barely in training because I was always getting...ass-fucked by you. They were gonna call you a cunt and I just couldn't let that happen.” Shiro sighed, bringing himself up to full height and staring intently at Sendak. “You want me to stand up for you? I did. You want to punish me, go ahead. I'm trying to show you loyalty, and if that means beating the shit out of other slaves then I'd do it again in a heartbeat.” He crossed his arm across his chest with purpose, giving Sendak a curt bow. “You're my Commander, after all.”

 

-

 

Both Shiro and Zestera stared at the energy rope that bound their wrists with contempt. That much they could seem to agree on. Kaleska beamed at them, before turning back to the other gladiators stood a few paces away in a line. Shiro's eyes flicked to the small clusters of spectators in the stands – apparently it was normal for some citizens to come and watch – especially the bookies when they were trying to work out the odds for main events. “So!” Shiro quickly brought his attention back to Kaleska, who paced up and down the line, hands behind her back. “Can any of ya bastards tell me why teamwork is important?” _I know why team work is important, but I don't think this dreck does._ He'd imagined this was how Keith felt when that kid set him off. He smiled, tuning out a little as he recalled the memory, remembering how surprised Keith looked when he offered his hand. The poor kid probably had a lot of people give up on him, but Shiro could see that potential. He was gonna be a great pilot; he knew it.

 

Shiro jolted as a large shield was stabbed into the ground at his feet. “Better be payin' more attention, Shiro.” Kaleska gave him a warning look, and he nodded hastily. “You're going to get me killed. Fucking useless untrained dreck.” So much as it was tempting to bite back, Shiro ignored the baited insults. He was better then that. He cocked his head to take stock of the pole arm in Zestera's hand. It looked like a woldo, and the blade had seen better days. “Weapon of choice?”  
“Favoured, actually.” Zestera sniffed as they tugged Shiro along with them.

 

“How do you fight?”  
“Well.” Zestera cast him a scowl.  
“No, are you agile? Defensive? Focus on attack?”  
“I don't think, just do.”  
“We need a plan. What're we even fighting?”  
“If you'd listened, instead of being stood there with a dopey look on your face, you'd have heard Rudiarius say we were fighting a terchii.”  
“So what's that?”  
“ _That._ ” Zestera raised their joined hands and pointed to the beast that cantered out. It looked like a shire horse, but stood at about two metres at least to the withers, and instead of short hair like a horse, it had a thick exo-skeleton and a deep red crest running from its head to its hindquarters. The creature brayed and snorted as it reared up. “Native to my home world. Aggressive in nature. You defend, I attack. Got it?”  
“Yeah.” Shiro narrowed his eyes as Kaleska whipped the creature into a frenzy. “Let's go.” Zestera took off, and Shiro did his best to keep pace. He was as fast as Nadiva.

 

The terchii snorted and galloped towards them. “Defend and brace!” Zestera ordered, dipping behind Shiro. He brought up the shield, and as the creature reared up and struck its mighty hooves down, Zestera pressed their full weight against Shiro's back. He grunted as his prosthetic screamed under the tension, brow knitted tight together as he concentrated on keeping them alive. His legs strained, even if they were bent to take the blow. “Don't think I can hold it-” Shiro snarled as he felt Zestera skirt away and thrust the pole arm into the breaks in the exo-skeleton under its foreleg. It brayed in pain as it swung it's thick neck to Zestera.

 

Shiro withdrew, tugging his arm and pulling Zestera to the floor, the head just missing him. “What was that?”  
“No time!” Shiro clicked his tongue as he dove towards Zestera. He pulled them up roughly and the two danced around the creature as it cantered away, circling them. The two drew together so their backs pressed. “I didn't wanna go flying with you.”  
“Could have gave me a warning!”  
“No time for chatter, it's coming back.” Shiro panted, eyes focused on the terchii as it stampeded towards them snorting wildly. They only just dodged out of the way, Zestera trying to get a lucky strike but the thrust just bounced off the exo-skeleton. They both growled in unison. “We need to get the underbelly properly, and we can't let it draw out the fight.” Zestera watched from the corner of their eyes as Shiro pulled himself up. “Least you can hold your ground.”  
“At least you can use that thing.” Shiro snorted, offering a tiny grin. “Can you try draw it in with the pole arm? I'll then come in to block as it rears up, then you can try and stab it.”  
“Sounds like a plan. I won't be able to brace. You're on your own.”  
“Don't take long then.” They watched the terchii continue to circle, noting the deep red patch under the foreleg and spots of blood on the sand.

 

Zestera screeched at the terchii, lashing their tail against the sand and slamming the large blade of the pole arm to the floor. Shiro was poised to move as it galloped at them, head raised as it brayed and snorted.  
“Wait.”  
Shiro watched as it got closer.  
“Wait.”  
It didn't seem to be slowing down.  
“Wai-”  
Shiro dropped, pulling Zestera down with him as the terchii cat-leapt over their heads. As it's body touched down, it bucked. Shiro rolled up to his knees, pressing his weight into the shield and grunting in pain as he was knocked on top of Zestera. “I-Idiot!”  
“What type of team mate would I be if I let you get trampled? Strike it, now!” Shiro shouted, pushing himself up with Zestera, the other thrusting the pole arm into the unprotected thigh. The terchii shrieked out in pain, as it limped forward, blood pouring from the wound. Zestera moved under the beast's legs, thrusting the pole arm up once, twice, three times; the pink flesh and white bone shining through. Shiro stumbled backwards, bringing Zestera down on top of him, the two panting heavily as the terchii staggered forward, before dropping into the sand. It billowed up around it, before slowly settling. The creature lay defeated.

 

A raucous roar resounded behind them, and they heard feet thunder across the sand. Zestera pulled themself off Shiro, dropping the pole arm to the floor. With their free hand, they offered it to Shiro. “You're not totally shit at defence, but that doesn't mean I like you much either.” Shiro paused, before taking the hand and letting himself be hauled up. “You're good with a pole arm, perhaps you can show me one day?” He cocked his eyebrow, Zestera snorting in response. “Takes deca-phoebs to get as good as I am. Depends if we're alive by then.”  
“Then lets stay alive,” Shiro offered them a warm smile. Zestera looked away.

 

Kaleska came to a halt in front of the pair, undoing the bind. “Great work! We're gonna have a mighty lunch!”  
“We're going to have a _what_?” Shiro looked between her and the terchii. “Ya, they're ridiculously tasty. Zestera here can cook 'em up real well.” They turned to Zestera, who folded their arms across their chest. “I might be able to whip something up, Rudiarius.” They bowed their head and took the pole arm, motioning for some of the others to come over to the body. “You and they got the kill, so you can share the heart.” She gave Shiro's shoulder a pat, “it'll make you stronger, maybe even a little bigger.”  
“Sounds...great,” he watched with scepticism as the group dragged the body between them, Kaleska gently pushing Shiro towards them to help lift the carcass.

 

-

 

Shiro let out a soft gasp as he slipped into the warm water, sinking low and absently blowing bubbles. It was just him – Sendak had to take a call with Haxus about something. The emollient soak smelt and felt good against his bruised and cut skin. It had been a good quintant, all things considered. Carving up effectively a horse was disturbing, and he'd not really enjoyed the half a heart he'd been forced to eat, but Sendak had been weirdly pleased with him for bringing some cuts home. Maybe terchii was a delicacy? To him, they were eating a horse. Hopefully they could have something meat-free tonight. He closed his eyes, yawning, as he sank into the water, letting himself float along the top. _God, this is really relaxing._

 

-

 

“The Commander messaged saying he will be later then planned. His meeting has carried on longer then he anticipated. You will remain in here until he comes to collect you.” The guard pushed open the door of the large cell and Shiro thanked him as he stepped in, eyes catching a dull orange glow. “Have fun,” the guard called, walking away. Shiro settled opposite Nadiva, who cocked his head to the side, the teal locks looking a bit longer now. “It's been a while. Have you been avoiding me?”  
“It has, yeah.” Shiro chewed his tongue. He had to be careful what he said.  
“Is something wrong?”  
“Yeah, something's pretty wrong.” _The fact that it's your fault Hepta's so nervous about returning to front-line duties_. He'd got weirdly attached to Hepta, possibly because his behaviour at present reminded him a _little_ of Matt. He was also friendly enough in a strangely endearing way. He shook his head; he was struggling with getting attached to anyone who wasn't Sendak because betrayal would eventually happen. He wished things were black and white; all these shades of grey were difficult to deal with. He just didn't want to feel so alone. He missed Ulaz; calm, kind Ulaz. _I just want to trust someone again._

 

“What happened?”  
“I've been warned about hanging around you.”  
“By who? Kaleska?” Nadiva crossed his leg over the other, watching him intently.  
“Not just her. Effectively, I'm dead a man walking if I say _anything_.” Shiro leaned forward, expression grave. “I see. That is a shame.” Nadiva stared at the floor, a little dejected. “I had some news to give you.”  
“Nadiva, please don't make this more difficult.”  
“It's about your friend-”  
“I said don't-”  
“-we know what planet he's being held on.” Nadiva crouched down next to Shiro, gently brushing some of his hair away. “We need to make a prison break there, Shiro. In the next few phoebs, we can free him.”  
“Nadiva, stop, _please_. I can't be involved in this.” Shiro curled his fingers around his wrist, pushing him back, face pained as he screwed his eyes shut. “I thought to tell you at least.” Nadiva rose and made his way back over to the bunk. It squeaked as he settled.

 

“I thought this might happen eventually.”  
“Thought what?”  
“You have thrown your lot in with a the Galra – they got to you, they _broke_ you.” Nadiva's stare turned icy. “I should have curbed my expectations – you had potential, but _only_ that. I am curious, though,” Nadiva rolled to his side, expression nothing but pure disgust, “what you sold yourself for. Or did you perhaps just give yourself up? Opened your legs like the whore I always thought you were?”  
“That's rich coming from you!” Shiro rose, fists clenched tight. “You might act cool and collected but you're just as broken as I am! How do I know if anything you say is true? You took advantage of _my_ trust when I was vulnerable.”  
“Because you wanted it, and you were _easy_ to manipulate.” Nadiva rose, squaring up to Shiro. He shoved Nadiva away, teeth bared. “You even act like them. Such a pathetic, broken creature.”  
“I'll break _you_.”  
“Really? Then do it in the arena. Get to the finals to face me, and I'll make you wish you'd never been born.” Nadiva spat at his feet and turned back to his bunk.

 

It was a tense half a varga until the guard came along, sensing the atmosphere it seemed. He quietly pulled Shiro out and walked him to the front desk, Sendak stood checking something on his tablet. He ushered Shiro out, and the two walked in silence. Shiro could feel Sendak's gaze on him; he could likely sense the anger coming off him in waves. “What troubles you?”  
“Champion.” Shiro spat. “I'm going to kill him.” Sendak made a bone-chilling chuckle and Shiro felt his hand on his shoulders. “I will enjoy seeing you do it.” Shiro looked at the hand, pushing it off to stand in front of Sendak. “I'm serious. I'm going to paint the arena floors with his blood and use his corpse as a fucking brush.”  
“Don't become too blind.”  
“My sight is crystal clear, Commander.” Shiro growled. He spat against the floor. “Can you do something for me when we get back?”  
“What do you want?” Sendak sounded bemused. Hopefully he'd like the response. “I want you to fuck me up.”  
“What would that entail, slave?” Shiro stopped, looking at the Commander's still form in the low light. “I want you to fuck me until the only thing I can scream is your name.” He carried on walking, eventually hearing the clawed boots catch up quickly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so sorry for the terchii! We have shire horses in town deliver beer to the local pubs, and it's been a really long-standing tradition of the town. I actually really like horses, and used to horse ride when I was younger. 
> 
> Zestera's story still needs some more exploring, as well as Kaleska and Banlu for sure, but they won't be totally heavy or a main focus, in case you're worried I'm going to write about a chapter each (that would take away from all our Shendak time). I just want them to be a little more then window dressing, and I'm the type of person who sometimes loves their background characters more then the main cast - which arguably is a problem in writing if your main characters don't grab the readers/watchers full attention. Also world-building and all that.
> 
> But no, I'm a little sad over Nadiva. He does have a few final surprises and twists though :) 
> 
> I can confirm now that next chapter in completely Ulaz-centric and focused on the Blades of Marmora. There's going to be some backstory and relevant plot points, and the chapter itself is probably over half-way done at this point. I've listened to...so much ambient music and been drinking herbal teas (and smoking but that's a personal vice) to I suppose get myeself focused on him. Presently, it's probably one of my favourite chapters for this fic, and I've never really thought much about him as a character not attached to Shiro and Keith in canon. Also you blooming Ulaz lovers in the comments ;p (nah I love you all, thanks for giving me a new character and ship to ship!).


	25. Marmora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos - and I hope you've had time to catch up :)
> 
> As said, it's an Ulaz-focused chapter with a bit of a backstory and info about Kolivan. I have enjoyed writing bits of this chapter, like the first section. The events take place a few days after Ulaz left Central Command, and do encompass most of the two movements he's gone, so yeah it is time-skippy a bit.
> 
> Due to Ulaz's outfit in canon, I believe him and Kolivan are both high-ranking members of the Blades. No other Blades has the same/similar armour so yeah. 
> 
> Either way, do enjoy :)

“The _Revolution_ is an old girl, but she gets you where you need to go.”  
“How many deca-phoebs has she been ferrying strangers into the skies?”  
“Oh, quite a few. She's had a few makeovers; replaced a few parts here and there.”  
“So, is the _Revolution_ really the same ship as when she was first built?”  
“The _Revolution_ may be not have all of her original pieces, and she might look a bit battered up, but at the end of the quintant, she's still the same old girl she's always been – still represents the same ship I built.” The burly Galra sat on the engine exhaled smoke from his lips, looking down at the cloaked figure.

 

“Don't get many strangers waxing philosophical about spacecraft, especially out here on the fringes. You a bit of a thinker?”  
“You could say that. I find your answer curious; could you not argue that she has lost so much of herself that she's no longer the same craft? Or perhaps as soon as you changed one part, she no longer was the _Revolution_?”  
“I see what you're saying. It's all about identity and meaning. To me,” The Galra smirked down at the stranger, “things will change over time like everything does. Things will break or fail, but so long as she ain't flown into a star, well, I can repair anything. New parts and paint jobs happen, I might update the font on her to be a bit more in line with the times, but to me and those who keep coming back to fly my little craft, she'll always be the _Revolution_.”  
“That's a rather endearing way to look at it, your craft, I mean.” The figure lifted a long pipe to their hidden lips, taking a slow drag.

 

“How much to hire her out? I need to get somewhere, but the route can be quite treacherous.”  
“A good conversation usually covers the cost.”  
“How do you keep her running?”  
“I do odd jobs here and there,” the Galra hopped down from the engine, lighting another cigarette and wandered over to look at the glowing eyes of the stranger. “Without conversation, you cannot learn. Without learning, you cannot gain knowledge. Without knowledge, life is meaningless.”  
“You're a pilot who thinks a lot, aren't you?”  
“Aye. I have the time and space.” He waved his arms around. “This moon sees very little activity.”  
“I imagine so. It's a very quiet place to retire to. What made you want to live out here? I hear it can be dangerous.”  
“I like a bit of danger in my life.” The two Galra stared at each other for a few ticks. The wind picked up and rattled some nearby shutters.

 

Their blades clashed against each other; the metal sang out around the dark field. “It's good to see you again, brother.”  
“Likewise.” The hood blew away, revealing Ulaz's face. “Do you want a drink, perhaps a rest before you go?”  
“I must make haste,” Ulaz checked around the ship, nodding in contentment. “I understand. Follow me a tick.”

 

-

 

It had been a while since Ulaz had flown anything. He sat in the cockpit chair, rechecking the co-ordinates he'd put in. He'd always quadruple check them, and keep an eye on the time. He had to be cautious when he approached the main base due to the pathway opening and closing. If he didn't fly fast, he may miss the window and have to wait for a few quintants until it opened again. He bent over the console, checking the controls and what was available on board the ship. It had cloaking, boosters, and by the looks of it a military-grade cannon installed. He didn't expect to get into any skirmishes, however one could never be too careful.

 

He pushed himself up from the chair and stretched his arms out, taking the cloak from the back of the seat and folding it neatly. He padded over to his bag and pulled out his suit. It'd been a long time since he'd worn it. He smoothed his claws over the grey material as he pulled it from the bag, then the rest of the armour. He stripped out of his military-issue attire and stowed it carefully away in a sealed compartment that blocked the intense radiation he would soon be in contact with. Though the ship had strong shields, he'd prefer to play it safe.

 

Ulaz watched the stars pass by from outside the display. Deep space was a lonely place, much like the life of a Blade. Even though he and Thace were as close to being mates as they could get, this life wouldn't allow them the chance to make it a reality. It was no ones fault; things just had a way of panning out as they did. Even though they were grounded in Central Command, and it'd been great spending so much time with him again like they used to; all the gentle domestic moments, the sweet kisses and tender sex, the breathy purrs and the way he laughed all felt painful to him – it shouldn't feel like these moments were being stolen away. It could never be, they could never have this long-term. He felt his eyes prickle and wiped at the edges. He shouldn't feel like this, it was a life that he'd chosen, after all. He blinked under heavy eyes. Everything was catching up with him.

 

-

 

“ _You awakened the Blade.” Kolivan gave Thace a curt nod. Ulaz bent down, helping the Galra up. “T-Thank you.” He blinked at Ulaz, a hint of fear in his eyes as he still wore his mask. They all did until a possible candidate passed the trials. Ulaz hummed a response and took a few steps back to stand near Kolivan and the remaining veterans of the Blade. Their numbers had recently taken a heavy blow – but like always, the disenchanted souls of the Empire would find themselves here looking for answers to questions they had for too long suppressed. Thace had become close to Ulaz's mentor; Hurgen, and he had passed his blade on to him along with the co-ordinates. Like most possible candidates, they had to work out what the code meant. Selection had never been wrong for millennia._

 

“ _You will be trained by your new brother, Ulaz. I expect you to listen without question – he is as seasoned as I.” Kolivan's mask disengaged as he slowly stepped towards Thace, planting a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” Thace bowed his head forward towards their leader, then dropped to the floor. Ulaz softly padded back over, pulling him up again. “I will commence training after he rests.” Ulaz muttered, hoisting the body over his shoulder. Kolivan nodded, the other Blades around them beaming and chatting amongst themselves. “It's good to have another in the ranks.”  
_“ _It is, but we still need more. More blades must be claimed.” Kolivan muttered darkly as he turned to the few veteran members that remained. It was enough to count on one hand. They had other members, but none as experienced as themselves._

 

Ulaz's eyes blinked open slowly. He'd been asleep. He rubbed them as he moved up to look at the displays and track his location. He was a quintant away from his destination. A little more rest couldn't hurt, even if it meant revisiting memories in his dreams.

 

-

 

“ _Tell me, little one, what's on your mind?” The older Galra settled beside him, taking a pipe out and lighting the contents. It was long, thin and silver, and Ulaz liked the shine the pale moonlight made against it. “I'm not_ that _little. I'm nine-hundred and thirty-two, actually.” The Galra at his side laughed heartily, choking a little on the smoke. “Goodness, where are my manners!” He wiped at his eyes, before sighing and looking up at the stars, the wind rustling the trees above._

 

“ _I don't want to be here any more. I'm sick of living like this. There just has to be more to life then this religion. I want to go out, explore. Do the Galran thing, you know?”_  
“ _And what is the 'Galran thing'?”_  
“ _You know, fight for the Empire. The Alteans destroyed our home – I didn't ask to be born into a family that wanted to abandon the Empire for what it did!”_  
“ _From what I know of you, which I admit is not a lot, I think you would be too kind for the Empire.”_  
“ _What makes you think that? I could kill someone, if I wanted to.”  
_“ _Really? Well, since you are an adult, why don't you have a go?” The Galra beside him passed him a knife, a strange symbol glowing brightly at the hilt as it neared him._

 

 _Ulaz took the weapon in his hand, turning it over and over. “What's it made out of? It feels so light. Why does the centre glow? What does the symbol mean?”_  
“ _All very good questions. I could tell you, but you said you wanted to kill.”_  
“ _Can I retract that?”_  
“ _I don't know, can you?” He took another drag on his pipe, watching Ulaz for his answer. He swallowed, pupils transfixed on the knife in his hands. “I want to retract that. I want to learn – grow.” Ulaz's ears pricked at the soft chuckle beside him._  
“ _Lets play a small game. I'll offer you some choices, and you tell me what sounds better, okay?”  
_“ _Okay...” Ulaz side-eyed him carefully, before moving his body round, fingers tight around the hilt. Although his religion was pacifistic in nature, somehow holding this knife felt natural, familiar somehow._

 

“ _So, books or a blade?”_  
“ _Books, of course.”_  
“ _What do you think sounds more appealing: freedom of thought and what you can vocalise, or social rules and repercussions that can change at any given moment?”_  
“ _That's a harder question then the first.”_  
“ _I didn't say this was an easy game, just small.” He grinned between the pipe. “So, what's your answer?”_  
“ _That's a bit loaded – because you make one sound worse, but you can argue that social rules can help a society not devolve into a mindless collection of people spewing hatred and misinformation just because they think it.”_  
“ _But then if censorship and punishment for being an individual exists, a society can become stunted and stale – as well as a dictatorship. It does not grow and learn. I can see your point, but you're only looking at it from one way. There are many shades of grey in life.”_  
“ _Then can I really make a choice?”_  
“ _You can choose whatever option, or no option at all.”_  
“ _I don't think I'm ready to make a choice.” Ulaz said with confidence. “I don't have all the information.”  
_“ _My, you are quite grown up for your age, aren't you?” He laughed again. Ulaz found it puzzling; they weren't telling jokes._

 

“ _You're a really strange guy...what was your name again?”_  
“ _Hurgen.”_  
“ _You said you were a soldier with the Empire?”_  
“ _I did, yes.”_  
“ _You don't act like the other soldiers around here. They look at us with hatred – treat us like half-breeds.”_  
“ _Ah-ah, none of that,” Hurgen scolded, “my children are just as much Galra as I am.”_  
“ _I-I'm sorry,” Ulaz's ears drooped and he pushed the knife back. “I should get going. If I'm late back they'll punish us all again.” He turned to leave, Hurgen catching him by the hem of his shirt. “Those wounds – when did you get them?”_  
“ _It doesn't matter.”  
_“ _Wait, Ulaz.” Hurgen pulled himself up and grabbed the him by the shoulders, spinning him round to look at him. He was a tall, muscular Galra with a strong jawline. “I have one last question for you: would you rather stay here, or leave?” Ulaz stared at him for a long moment. “If I could, I would leave right now. I'm scared I'm going to die on this moon.” He screwed his eyes shut, before running._

 

Ulaz rotated the blade around in his hands. He always thought he'd taken Hurgen's blade, until he shown him his own. This was his; it chose _him_ to wield it. The first time it awakened for him was when him and Kolivan completed their trials. Kolivan had come from the Royal Guard at the same time Hurgen rescued him from his life, if it could really be called that. They were both the same age. That was a little over eight-thousand deca-phoebs ago now. He ruffled his mohawk. After Kolivan had been training a while, their then-leader, a woman called Illara, had hand-picked him for eventual leadership. She was cold but fair, and honestly, she couldn't have picked a better leader. His skills were honed to perfection and his battle prowess was a sight to behold. He was a true force of nature in person and on the battlefield.

 

His mind drifted to the Commander – not so fond of Kolivan. Sendak saw him as a cocky upstart, and Kolivan was the only one who could challenge him in any type of fight outside of the Emperor, or so he said. Sendak had confessed deca-phoebs ago that he wished Kolivan hadn't betrayed them when he was drunk – he missed the challenge and wanted to fight him again. Ulaz wasn't a betting man, but even he didn't know who would come out of that fight alive if it ever happened. Part of him prayed it never did, because Sendak would be fury incarnate for Kolivan's actions leading to the death of his son.

 

-

 

He traced his hands along the cool stone. It always surprised him considering what lay outside. He was back home, even if what awaited him made the fur on his neck stand on end. He was anxious to see Kolivan; those eyes that had grown colder after so many deaths. He kept it hidden well, but Ulaz knew. Leadership was a lonely place from what he understood, and he was content that there was never that expectation for him. He paced up winding staircases and then a lift, until he came out at the end of a corridor; their emblem flickering in the hall in front. Ulaz made his way along and stepped into the room; Kolivan and Antok stood awaiting his arrival.

 

“Welcome home, brother.”  
“It's good to see you both well.”  
“We have much to discuss, but first, I need to do your debrief.” Kolivan slowly stepped down and walked past him, Antok striding after him. Ulaz sighed and turned, following the two back out of the room. _As cold as always, it seems._ It was going to be a long two movements.

 

-

 

The debrief took vargas, but was finally winding down. Kolivan thanked Ulaz as he placed the data chips in a small container. “As always, you deliver a wealth of intelligence.” Ulaz could have sworn there was a ghost of a smile on his face. He nodded slowly and shielded a yawn. “You can rest soon. Just the usual questions to tie it up.” He looked down at his pad and sighed; “are you still of able body and mind to continue your mission?”  
“Yes.”  
“Are there any relationships that could be compromising to your role?”  
“No.” Ulaz bit his lip.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Do you mean Thace?”  
“No, although you know my feelings on that. That slave you mentioned is who I'm referring to.”  
“I don't think it would be-”  
“You explicitly told me what you've done to him and yourself. I would call that compromising.”  
“I still put the mission first.”  
“But you cannot deny it. If he has a death wish, he may try taking you down with him.”  
“Along with Sendak, Nadiva, Krolia and Ranveig.”  
“I can't justify exchanging two Blades' and an allies life for a slave and two members of High Command.” Kolivan leaned in towards Ulaz.  
“I wasn't suggesting that at all, but pointing out I understand the gravity of the situation. I am confident that I have it in hand. The slave is too fearful of reprisal to be of any potential threat, and so far as he is concerned, I'm just like the rest of the Galra.” Ulaz crossed his arms over his chest. “Memory purging by the Druids is too high risk, my only other option is what we use.” It wasn't an option he liked the thought of, but it was the only way Ulaz could guarantee the safety of the Blades and Shiro.

 

Kolivan considered him for a long moment. “Will it work on him?”  
“Highly likely from what information I have about his species.”  
“Then you can take as much as you need back with you. At least you have easy access to him. If you are confident in this, then I will believe it.” Kolivan tapped the display and looked back up at Ulaz. “I will want updates if anything further happens, understand?”  
“Yes.” Ulaz watched him nod and look down at the display, pausing again. “It's a shame Nadiva has made this messy. I'd have asked you to seduce him for information if that was the case.”  
“Kolivan, that would be too much.”  
“No, it wouldn't.” His tone grew terse, and Ulaz knew this was the best time to back down.  
“Do you feel your role is compromised?”  
“No.”

 

-

 

“So, this is one of the Lions of Voltron?” Ulaz slowly walked up to the barrier, rapping his knuckles against it cautiously. Kolivan chuckled behind him, taking a few paces forward. “It certainly is. The Red Lion – the right arm of Voltron.” They both stared at its vacant 'eyes'. There was something eerie but ethereal about the ship that _sat_ in front of them both. “It's like you're just waiting for it to move.” Ulaz tried to joke, Kolivan just arching an eyebrow at him before fixing his gaze back on the lion. “It has yet to accept anyone as a pilot.”  
“That's probably a good thing.” Ulaz wandered around the barrier that the ship had erected. “It's possible Zarkon could sense it.”  
“That's certainly true. I presume he is still hunting for the Black Lion?”  
“Of course he is.” Ulaz stood beside Kolivan, hands behind his back.

 

“So we've found two of the five lions. Is there any news about the Black, Yellow and Green?”  
“No news yet.” Kolivan kept his gaze with the lion steady, as if staring at it would make the ship lower the barrier. “You know what we could use that human for?”  
“Which one?”  
“Sendak's slave.”  
“What would you intend to do with him?” Ulaz asked carefully. Kolivan was silent for a while. “Send him back to Earth – warn them about the impending Galran attack when they get wind of the Blue Lion's location. When and if you get off Central, of course.”  
“That would takes phoebs of planning – I imagine I would be blowing my cover for that to happen?” Ulaz arched an eyebrow at his leader, who let out a small chuckle. “I think you'd be happy getting away from Sendak.”  
“I have been missing this place, I must say. Will the Red Lion be moved from headquarters in due course?”  
“Yes. We're looking at transport options and locations at present, while keeping an eye on fleet movements.”

 

-

 

“ _So what happened for you to come back looking like this?” Ulaz asked as he wrapped the bandage tight around Kolivan's chest. This was the biggest wound he'd received to date. “The operation was compromised, and we...we lost Velk along the way.” Kolivan hissed through his teeth as Ulaz applied some gel to the gash on his arm. “You're really good at healing. Have you thought about doing that?”_  
“ _I don't think I'm honestly all that great. All I did was read books, practised a bit on some dummys and a few live subjects.”_  
“ _Is that why your light's always on when I'm trying to sleep? You're reading?”_  
“ _Well yeah. Books are great sources of knowledge – and data pads.”  
_“ _If you spent the time you put into reading into training more, you'd probably be able to do more missions.” Kolivan flinched when Ulaz tugged the bandages hard._

 

“ _Not everyone's born equally.” Ulaz glared at Kolivan._  
“ _It's been a thousand deca-phoebs – you're out of that place now.”_  
“ _I know, and I've unlearned a lot...just some things are harder to break then others.”_  
“ _You can do it. When you do, you can become my body guard when I lead.” Kolivan cracked a tiny grin before it disappeared. He dropped his head low as a throat cleared from the doorway.  
_“ _Kolivan, if you're to lead one day, you need to reign yourself in. I understand what you did, but we can't afford to lose our brothers and sisters or become compromised. Unlike the Empire, everyone is useful and has a purpose. No one is a number.” Ulaz turned to see Illara stood behind them, eyes fixated to Kolivan's broad form. She looked to Ulaz, inclining her head. “You will have a new mission shortly. I need you to brush up on your swordsmanship before you go out. It'll be a small team – three operatives. I suggest you spend some time with myself and Kolivan.” She gave them both a curt nod and left, hands behind her back._

 

“ _Do you think that's what I'll become if I ever lead?”_  
“ _I think that's entirely up to you, but you have to think about all the lives you're responsible for.”_  
“ _Yeah. Maybe that's how you're supposed to be when you have that much pressure.”_  
“ _It sure is a lonely life, leadership.”  
_“ _I think only a few can walk it well enough.” Kolivan stared at the bandages, and offered Ulaz a toothy grin. “For putting it on tight, I'm gonna make sure training is rough.” Ulaz elbowed him in the side, chuckling to himself._

 

-

 

The only sound around Ulaz was that of deep breathing as the three of them meditated. It was a long-established practice within the group, and something he hadn't made the time for since he was stationed on Central; he simply hadn't had the opportunity. Through his eyelids, he could see the light flicker. A growl came from his left, and he heard Antok rise to his feet. “I'll go see what he's got into now.”  
“Please.” Kolivan answered, the exasperation clear in his voice. Ulaz cracked his eye open, watching Antok's tail swish in frustration as he paced from the room; his footfalls making no sound.

 

“Who is 'he'?”  
“A very important scientist. Do you recall the reclusive Slav, at all?” Kolivan rumbled.  
“I recall the name, but can't put a face to him. Why is he here?”  
“It's easier to keep an eye on him, and he's updating our systems and networks. We'll be taking him to the outposts to upgrade them soon enough.”  
“Is he the one behind the cannon you mentioned?”  
“He is.”  
“I wish you'd told me sooner. It feels at times you don't trust me.” He heard a sigh, and looked to Kolivan. For the first time in hundreds of deca-phoebs, he looked tired. “It's not an issue of trust. It's been your recklessness at times that worries me. I don't want to lose you.”  
“Because you see me as a valued friend, or just another number?”  
“Don't think of yourself like that – you and your work are crucial.”  
“You didn't answer my question. I accept that my life is less important then the overall mission.”  
“You know you're my friend.”  
“Then why does it feel like we're strangers? What happened?” Ulaz tilted his head to Kolivan, who held his head in his brow. “Our paths diverged a long time ago, what became important to us shifted.”

 

-

 

“ _Thank you,” Kolivan pulled the braid around his neck and smoothed out the uniform. He wore the garb of a leader; he was now the head of the Blade of Marmora. “How does it feel?”_  
“ _Like I've large boots to fill, but the mission comes first.”_  
“ _Have you...grieved Illara?”_  
“ _She knew that the mission was priority over anything else.”_  
“ _Kolivan that's...that's cold.”_  
“ _I've never been as compassionate or emotive as you, Ulaz, and this role does not allow for that. The stakes are too high to be clouded by emotions and feelings. I – we – must soldier onwards.” Kolivan moved with conviction towards the door. Ulaz grabbed his forearm tightly._  
“ _We can still do that_ and _mourn the fallen.”  
_“You _can still do that. I cannot. I will mourn her in my own way, and that's all you need to know. Come, we have work to do.” Kolivan pulled his arm away and exited through the door. Ulaz curled his clawed hand around the air, drawing it back to his chest. He steeled himself, and followed quickly._

 

-

 

“How did you manage to switch off the gravity?” Antok held Slav between his second pair of arms, tone exasperated. Slav shrugged, making a dismissive noise. “It is just a small calibration error! If you let me go, and push me at a twenty-six degree angle, there's a ninety percent chance that in this reality, I can fix it. Unless...this is the reality where I don't, and the station gets torn apart by the black holes. Or we combust thanks to the star-”  
“Would you please just fix the gravity!” Kolivan growled as he floated aimlessly.  
“Yes.” Slav remained in Antok's grip.  
“Well?”  
“You want me to do it now? Okay. Push me towards the panel, but at a twenty-six degree angle only.” He squinted his eyes at Antok, who groaned and aimed him as best he could. Ulaz watched somewhat bemused from his spot floating above a control panel. It'd been a long time since he'd been in zero-gravity, and a longer time since Antok and Kolivan had expressed any other emotion in their voices.

 

-

 

“ _You wanted to see me?”_  
_Hurgen glanced up as he emptied the charred contents of the pipe into the ash tray. “I did, come on in. You don't have to be nervous.” He offered one of those warm smiles that always made Ulaz feel safe, and he padded slowly over to the bed. “You don't have to sit on the edge like that – I don't take up that much space, do I?”_  
“ _N-No, it's just...I didn't expect you to ask me here. It's your space.”_  
“ _Only when I'm on base.” Hurgen shrugged as he refilled the pipe, lighting it again. “I'm going on a long mission.”_  
“ _Where to?”_  
“ _Central Command. They've made me a lieutenant, and I'm going into communications.”_  
“ _You don't sound happy about it.”  
_“ _I'm not, because I wanted to focus on teaching you a few new things. However, Kolivan's the boss, so his word is law.” Hurgen exhaled the smoke, studying Ulaz pensively. “It's likely I'll be gone for a good few hundred deca-phoebs – probably longer.”_

 

“ _I'm going to miss you.” Ulaz flicked his eyes to Hurgen._  
“ _I'll miss you too. You've really come a long way – and you've developed a good fighting style. It doesn't waste energy – it's efficient and suits you. Compared to the young Galra I met on that moon all those deca-phoebs ago, you're so much more confident in yourself. As your mentor, I...” Hurgen trailed off. He set the pipe down and placed the ash tray on a small shelf above the bed, and pulled himself over next to Ulaz. “I'm proud of you. I think you no longer require a mentor.”_  
“ _I. Are you sure? I'm still not-”_  
“ _Ulaz, trust me. I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it,” Hurgen wrapped an arm around his shoulder, bringing him into his toned chest. Ulaz felt a tiny lick against the end of his ear, letting out a small purr as he closed his eyes. “Will you stay the night?”  
_“ _Of course.”_

 

“May I enter?”  
Ulaz blinked up from the blade in his hands and placed it on the bed. He'd been reminiscing about his mentor. That night was a bittersweet one; on one hand it was a wonderful time with Hurgen, but also the last time he saw him. This room held a lot of memories; ones he never wanted to let go of. Hurgen was strange and unnaturally laid-back for a Blade, but his reasoning was that you had to laugh, otherwise the job they did would break you. It was one of his lessons that Ulaz could never really grasp.

 

Kolivan stood on the other side of the door, offering out a small packet. “I'm here, if you allow it, to indulge in your smoking habit.”  
“Are you just here to indulge in smoking with me?”  
“I think we need to talk. As...friends, as opposed to leader and subordinate.” Kolivan glared down at the floor. “That would be nice. Come on in,” Ulaz took the offered packet and motioned Kolivan inside, the door sliding shut behind him. They settled on the bed, the small ashtray threatening to fall over as Kolivan sat down. “It's all your muscle.” Ulaz offered a weak smile as he placed the packet between them while Kolivan pulled out his own pipe from the inside of his wrap. “I do have the body of a warrior.” Kolivan didn't pick up on the joke. “Hurgen and Illara would be proud of you.”  
“I wonder whether they would. We've lost so many.”  
“It's not your leadership. The Empire has changed, the rebels have changed, and so have we.”  
“But we aren't what we once were.”  
“We're still the Blade of Marmora, and our mission is to stop the Empire's domination of the universe. Just because things have changed, doesn't mean that we have. And even if that's so,” Ulaz lit the contents of the pipe as he watched Kolivan, “then perhaps we are a more refined version of what first was.”  
“Perhaps.” Kolivan exhaled the smoke into the room, watching it coil and wisp.

 

“I know we can be at loggerheads about work,” Ulaz started, carefully deliberating over his words, “but do you honestly see my empathy and compassion as a weakness?”  
“I...think it became something between us because of what we've learned and where we came from. Your skill-set has got you into a lot of places, that I will grant you; but I think the time you spent in the witch's labs, well, it felt your focus has shifted. It's not a weakness, just for the work we do, it can be reckless and I don't want you to endanger yourself, as I have said in the past. If it came to it, and you did perish in an attempt to save another, so much as I would be proud of you I would be angry you threw your life away.”  
“Even if I knew their worth was greater than my own?”  
“Unless it was a Paladin of Voltron, but even then I'd still be angry you were dead.” Kolivan gently butted his fist against Ulaz's forearm. “Who would tie the best warrior braids for me?”  
“Was that...a joke?”  
“I don't tell jokes.”  
“Thank Unnur you don't. I can try, they're not as good as they used to be.”  
“It'll be fine.” Kolivan moved the ash tray and shifted closer to Ulaz, who set to work on untangling the hair.

 

“About your pupil. I told him to leave the twenty-third fleet. He was so fixated on the mission he thought there was enough time to gather more information.” Kolivan mumbled. Ulaz paused mid-way through the braid, staring at the white strands. “Additionally the rebels fired too early. I am sorry it came to this.”  
“I'm sorry you have to feel it's your fault.”  
“I am the only one accountable.” Kolivan slumped forward, sighing heavily.

 

-

 

“I'll be in contact in due course.” Kolivan kept his voice monotone as they stood in the hangar. “You are to keep on with your mission as originally briefed.”  
“Of course,” Ulaz bowed slightly and tossed his bag into the shuttle. “Be safe upon leaving.”  
“I shall be.” With a nod, Kolivan turned and left, Antok raising a clawed hand before following their leader.

 

As Ulaz settled down into the cockpit and input the course out of the base, his mind flicked to Shiro. Hopefully he was doing okay. He prayed that Sendak hadn't beaten or fucked him to an inch of his life, or just done anything that might harm him mentally. If he had to, he'd send him back to Earth himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been super-busy and tired from work, as well as not having any glasses right now. I will start on Chapter 26 hopefully tonight, but it may take me a few days to do.
> 
> Also SLAV. HE IS HERE. As a note, the weapon is a precursor to the zaiforge cannons, because I can't remember who in canon developed it, but I'm just gonna roll with Slav as being the man behind the idea (that was ripped from his head like the events of Beta-Traz), before he was rescued. Also something silly needed to happen with anti-gravity and Kolivan because I'm awful.
> 
> Next chapter is the Galra party time one. There is a 110% chance of there being smut because god damn it, I need to inject some Shendak after not giving you guys the fuck me up scene hahah. Although, slaves do also need to provide entertainment! It may be an orgy. I can't decide yet.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed ^^


	26. Celebrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos ^^ sorry for the delay!
> 
> Side note: Last chapter I made a note that Slav is designing a precursor to the Zaiforge cannons. I'm aware that Sam also worked on it/made them(?) as well. I checked again on the wiki and it says that Sam developed stuff later for them (to be the cannons we see in canon) - it was some technology for it. So that's all fine, and that will stay the same in this fic.
> 
> This is actually a rough chapter and has been by far the hardest to actually get right. I finished it on Thursday, but during work on Friday I reflected and didn't like the direction it went in. So, I rewrote effectively 3/4 it and it's half-met my expectations, but it's also brought something I had planned for a few chapters time forward. The good news is that it turned out longer and I didn't lose on smut, the bad news is that, well, you best read.
> 
> General warnings that the underage tag will apply again for this chapter, and Sendak is going to be a terrible manipulator by dredging up shit. OH, the biggest one that I actually have no idea how to tag, but WILL warn about is Sendak is /very/ insistent that Shiro must pleasure a lady. Shiro is 100% gay in this and just cannot because he just /can't/. I am aware that for those LGBT+ folk who have been around people who are like 'just sleep with X you may like it', this is probably going to be fucking uncomfortable (I was writing it since I've had it plenty and urgh). Sendak's not homophobic, he is just an utter bastard. If any of you need to talk, drop me a message on here/tumblr/comments. Please remember to take breaks if it gets too painful. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy.

Shiro hissed as Sendak traced his claws over the still raw tattoo at the base of his spine. “You have my clan mark now.” He purred against Shiro's ear, grazing his teeth against the skin. Shiro nodded slowly, trying to ignore the dull pain as Sendak pressed his prosthetic fingers into the bruised skin around his hips. He should never have asked Sendak to 'fuck him up', because he'd subjected him to a movement of rough and viscous sex that left him too exhausted for training. Two nights ago, Sendak decided he wasn't allowed to sleep, and he'd almost got himself cut in half by Banlu earlier. “Who do you belong to?” He sensed the irritation in his lack of response. “You, Commander.” Shiro whispered hoarsely, pressing his hips against Sendak's stiff cock. “Good boy. Go get yourself ready.” Sendak pulled back as he dragged his claws agonisingly slowly across the skin. Shiro felt empty as he moved towards the bedroom, ignoring the heat that pooled in his gut. His body screamed for Sendak's touch, but something niggled in the recesses of his mind he shouldn't.

 

He would prefer to stay in his normal tailed robe, but Sendak didn't allow it. He had to wear the weird corset thing. His only real worry was that it would irritate the nipple piercings as opposed to the skimpy leather shorts that came along with it. It was proper slave attire, he said. _Bullshit_. He'd prefer to just sleep, but judging from how much Sendak had cleaned up for this party, he felt he'd not get the chance to tonight either. At least there was no training in the morning. He let the robe fall from his broad shoulders and slipped his prosthetic through the arm hole, pulling it up around his sides. He fastened the clasps at the front, wincing as it already felt tight around his chest and he'd yet had the back tightened. The black material creaked around his shoulder as he tried to cover as much skin as possible. Try as he might, he couldn't cover the bottom of his stomach.

 

Giving up, he pulled the last piece on and glanced at himself in the mirror. There were a few intricate dark purple marks around the sides of the corset, which now he looked at them, looked quite pretty. He dragged his thumb over it, admitting Sendak at least had a good dress sense.  
“You look pleasing on the eye.” Shiro grunted in response as he tugged at the material around his ass. “Thanks.”  
“What's wrong?”  
“I'm...just tired. I don't really want to go out tonight.”  
“You're worried, aren't you?” He watched Sendak in the mirror move forward and bring his hand down upon his shoulder. “You will be fine, it will be quite a relaxed affair.”  
“I'm feeling Galra parties are very different to Earth parties. What happens?”  
“You'll see when we get there.” Sendak squeezed his shoulder and smoothed back his fur. For once he wasn't wearing his armour, which was strange for Shiro. His coat looked amazingly comfortable. With a click of his claws, Shiro followed behind, resisting the urge to hold the hem, but did focus on looking for shapes in the pattern. That was at least a good distraction.

 

-

 

They didn't go to Commander Ladnok's clan home, but to a place of rather fancy-looking halls. Shiro kept so close to Sendak, the Commander had stepped on his foot a few times. It didn't matter, he felt safe beside him in the busy hallways where he would catch Galra leering at him, before they caught sight of the Commander. They were stopped a few times by female Galra, most of which seemed to be trying to flirt with Sendak. He would kindly push their advances aside, and they would continue on.

 

“You're popular aren't you?”  
“Are you surprised?”  
“Yes.”  
“It's awkward,” Sendak licked his lips, “because they're the type who look for strong mates in the higher classes. I don't want a potential mate who is looking to just further themselves.”  
“I thought you'd love the attention.” Shiro raised his eyebrows at Sendak, who flicked his cheek. “Perhaps about eight thousand deca-phoebs ago, but not now.”  
“What were you like back then?”  
“It's not important.” Sendak let out a small growl and Shiro nodded his head, pressing his face against his arm.

 

“You're a bit over-affectionate.”  
“I'm feeling nervous still.” Shiro stopped, glaring at the floor. Sendak sighed in frustration. “For the most part you're going to be stood around. Likely pawed at because you're exotic and strange, and later you'll be providing entertainment.”  
“What type of entertainment? I can't act or sing or-”  
“Sexual entertainment.”  
“Oh.”  
“You'll be fine – you can do the latter very well.” Sendak ruffled his hair, and Shiro pushed himself into Sendak's chest, wrapping his arms around his waist. He hated himself like this – he was too tired. He needed _sleep_. “Come along, we mustn't be late. It is a birth celebration.”  
“I'm sorry, Commander.”

 

-

 

“I'm happy you made it!” Ladnok shouted, waving Sendak over. His lips tugged at the corners as he ushered the slave over with him. She took his hands in hers, a large grin on her face. “You even dressed up? Is my birth celebration that much of a deal?”  
“If you'd prefer, I could just go home and change into my armour.” He barked out a laugh as she chuckled, elbowing him. “You look nice. It's a good coat.”  
“Thank you. I also have a small something – here.” He handed her a tiny envelope. She rotated it in her hands before opening the top carefully. Her face turned from one of concentration to joy, and she leapt at him, pulling him down into a tight hug. “Thank you, _so_ much! I've been dying to go!”  
“There's another one in there. Just in case you want some company.” He gave her a soft smile, and the young commander's lips curled upwards. “You look pleasant when you're not frowning, you know.”  
“So I hear.” He flicked one of his ears and she snorted. “Fuck off, go enjoy yourself.” She patted his arm, and turned to greet another guest.

 

Shiro was bemused by the exchange. One thing he enjoyed was watching how Sendak acted around those he knew. When Sendak and Haxus were together, it ended up in just terrible ideas between them, but with female Galra he was polite and playful. “So,” he posed, “how long have you guys known each other?”  
“Since she was a kit, why?”  
“Curious, that's all,” Shiro offered Sendak a smile, who nodded down at him slowly. “I should get you with the other slaves. As said, you will be pestered throughout the night. Ladnok will make it known when she requires entertainment.” Sendak leaned down, his breath hot against Shiro's ear, “you get to use your new piercing.”  
“Sendak there's a...problem with that.” Shiro pointed at the slaves that looked closest to women back on Earth. “You recall my file?”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you recall anything about me having female partners?” He shifted uneasily on his feet as Sendak folded his arms as he concentrated. “I don't.”  
“I've had none for a reason. I just don't...find them appealing. At all.”

 

It took a few ticks for it to click. Perhaps not click, because from the Galra he'd been around, gender didn't seem to be a factor. “So you are only attracted to one?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I see, so like Ladnok then.” He uncrossed his arms. “Then you'll have to do your best on Zestera first. I think they're the only that may work to begin with.”  
“I'd rather not since, you know, Yastara?”  
“Well it's not them. I'm sure you can get yourself aroused enough so you don't get punished.” Sendak guided him towards Banlu, who watched them with curiosity. “I'll find you later.” Sendak moved some of his fringe from his eyes, before moving away.

 

“You okay 'here?”  
“Just terrified. You?”  
“Jus' ano'her day.” Banlu shrugged her shoulders, pulling her long ponytail over her shoulder. “Sorry, 'eard you talkin'. S'okay, don't really like guys mysel'. If we 'ave to, you know, I can,” she rotated her wrist, “fin' somethin' to use on you.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah. Us slave's gotta look out for each o'her.” She tapped at her collar. “Can guess what you go through.” She offered a half-smile.  
“How do you get through it?” Shiro asked after a few moments, “because, I've kinda just accepted I need to give myself over to Sendak, and since then it's not been as bad. Not fighting, I mean.”  
“Ha'e to say it, but I gave up fas'. Didn' think t'fight – too scared. Hopin' the arena will kill me in time. Kaleska keeps me goin' fer now.” She gave Shiro a light pat on the shoulder, “do what's bes' fer you, kay? We gotcha though, gladiator's honour.”  
“I haven't done anything to deserve this kindness from any of you.” He shrugged his shoulder and Banlu snorted back a laugh. “Mos' of us knew ya hur' your frien' to keep 'em safe. How you fought after is wha' we like. Ya small compared to Sendak, an' we can see how beaten up ya get. Ain't righ' a' all. Too much.”  
“So I'm a pity case?”  
“Nah, we've all been in your shoes. Offerin' wha' we can so ya ain't so lonely – it's scary.”  
“It is,” Shiro nudged her long forearm. “Thanks, Banlu.”  
“Nah trouble.” She gave him a toothy smile, and he noted the canines had all been removed.

 

-

 

The room was alive with chatter and laughter, the noise overwhelming and disorientating. Some drunken Galra shouted over to Commander Ladnok, congratulating her on being five thousand deca-phoebs old. Zestera and a few other slaves had arrived later. Some belonged to other commanders, and two were sent from Zarkon's personal harem. Primarily, the room was full of female Galra, which Shiro was still nervous about, especially if they decided they wanted him to do anything with them. That said, the males that were there were too curious for his liking. He screwed his eyes shut tighter as he felt claws press between his legs roughly, rubbing the material against his skin.

 

“Does your species have gender?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“What one are you?”  
“Male, sir.” He relaxed for a tick before he felt fingers brush against the leather around his hips, then push the it down. “It seems you have the same type of equipment.” Shiro bit back a squeak as cool fingers took his cock in their hand. He felt them pull back the foreskin and rub the piercing in small circles. “You like this?”  
“Y-Yes, sir.”  
“That's good. I like watching you in the arena, by the way.” The grip became tighter. “Since you're no longer collared, I'll have to come searching for you later tonight.” The Galra let out a low purr against his ear as he pulled away. Shiro let out the breath he'd been holding and pulled the leather back up, ignoring how painful his cock felt contained within it.

 

He looked to the side, noting Zestera's collection of Galra. They were pushed face-first onto the floor, body completely still except for the pupils that twitched with rage. Their tail was pulled round, being poked and toyed with by two Galra, while another probed into their rear.  
“It's got two pathways back here.”  
“From the same hole?”  
“Yeah it's weird.” The Galra spread Zestera's hips wide and pressed two fingers deep inside. Zestera grunted, eyes flicking up to Shiro. They held the gaze until the Galra seemed content they'd poked and prodded enough, and left.

 

“Fucking Galra scum.” Zestera hissed as they stood up, brushing the crumpled fabric out. “I hate it; I hate _them_.”  
“Can't say I blame you.” Shiro muttered, staring out into the room trying to find Sendak. “Are you nervous, about having to be 'entertainment'?” He asked, turning his head back to Zestera. They frowned at him. “No. I've been 'entertainment' plenty of times before now. Why, are you?”  
“Yeah. I mean, I...can do it, just not with what's around me.” Shiro was starting to wonder if he should ask Zestera whether he could use their hallucinogenics.  
“Why?”  
“Don't find it arousing.”  
“That's shit. Don't think I'm just going to bend over for you. I'm planning on enjoying myself as much as I can tonight.” Zestera sniffed. “Beats having to please _her_.”  
“Commander Gnov?”  
“Yeah. See my species has this ability-”  
“You make hallucinogenics. I know.” Shiro cut in, gaze hardening, “I _seriously_ know.”

 

Zestera chewed their lip, a deep frown on their face. “How would you know?”  
“I met a slave who looks exactly like you. Their name was Yastara.”  
“Was. Past tense,” Zestera glared at the floor, “what happened?” Shiro looked away into the crowds, erring to not be as truthful as he should be. “They died.”  
“I see.” There was a long pause between them until Zestera spoke again. “I'm happy they did. My sibling wasn't right for a long time. Zarkon broke them, and they tried to do the same to me.”  
“Did you resist?” Shiro cast them a disgruntled look at the sharp snort. “What do _you_ think? It cost me something pretty, but I can keep fighting in my own way. I think for and look after myself – caring about others gets you nothing but misery.” They spat on the ground. “As soon as I can get free, I'm taking a ship to some quiet planet and living my remaining days there. If I can't find one that's not infested with Galra, I'm flying my ship into Central Command. Everything I held dear has been ripped from my hands and stamped on, so what's my life worth? Nothing.”  
“How do you plan on getting free? We're slaves.” Shiro wasn't sure if Zestera was deluded or holding on to some vague hope of freedom, but they snorted sarcastically in response. “I'm going to beat Champion. If you do, the Emperor grant's you one request.”  
“I didn't know that.”  
“Because this is the first non-prisoner games you're fighting in. You know if we fight, I'm winning, right?” This time Shiro snorted, he tilted his head to look over Zestera. “Champion's _mine,_ but good luck beating me. If you plan on using that pole arm again, the blade'll be on the floor in a few ticks.”  
“Big talk for something so soft and slow.” A ghost of a smirk sat on their lips and Shiro stifled back a small laugh.

 

Shiro held his mouth tightly together as two drunk female Galra tottered over.  
“I wanna go on _that_ later.”  
“But I do!”  
“Let's share it!” One, this one of the reptilian variety, planted her hands on his shoulders and licked her lips, and his body tensed under her touch. “I'm gonna ride you _so hard you break_.” Shiro swallowed as he bowed his head, “I'd be grateful, ma'am.” The two Galra giggled as they pulled away, staggering towards a cabana adorned with silky-looking fabrics and tiny lights. Large beds sat in the centre, some occupied already.

 

“That was painful to watch.”  
“No shit,” Shiro glanced over, “I said I don't want any female bits near me, but it's that or receive punishment.”  
“If you think of someone you want to fuck, lemme know and I can help you along – it won't last long though, I'm not that potent any more.” Zestera flicked their tail. “Consider this a one-off for having the balls to tell me about my sibling. That's the first I heard of it. How long ago?”  
“About two phoebs – it's been a while.” Shiro watched Zestera mouth the words, then click their tongue. “The Galra are fucking bastards. I hope, by the way, that they didn't go all sadistic on you.” Zestera's face dropped as they watched him. “What happened?”  
“I'm not talking about it.”  
“Fair enough. Heads up, but if you start thinking of someone else, it will change to them. You know the rest.”  
“Yeah,” Shiro scratched at his arm, “thanks.”  
“Sorry – for what they did,” Zestera wasn't looking at him as he apologised. “It was bad, right? Don't answer, of course it was. They weren't always like that, but the witch purged their memories – all of it, gone. It's not to justify, just, you know.”  
“I think I get it.” Shiro squinted into the crowd, watching Sendak and Trugg arm wrestling. Ladnok hammered the table, slapping her hand against Trugg's shoulder as she slammed Sendak's hand down.

 

Another varga slogged by until Ladnok summoned the guests around the small collection of slaves. Shiro didn't like the predatory gazes; he couldn't fight or run, and would have to put himself on display. He may've been forced to make porn, but this was different. He felt something prick against his skin, then a hiss next to him. He turned, confused, as one of Zarkon's slaves prodded them each with a needle. He could feel his gut knot up with anxiety – _what have they given me now? What's going to happen?_ His thoughts were broken when he felt something push up against his lips, and blinked to see Zestera half-glaring at him. They leaned in, mouth centimetres from his ear. “Escape to your dreams.” Shiro nodded slowly, feeling like he'd heard something like that before. He'd dreamed of Keith the other night – this time just him. Maybe that would make this better? It wasn't real – just like a dream – so it wouldn't count. _It didn't count._

 

Shiro's eyes flickered open as the tail eased itself inside his mouth. He braced Zestera's shoulders as he dug his nails in deep. The tail rubbed against his tongue as they stimulated the bulbous appendage. He could feel the tip unfurl and ease itself back as liquid squirted out. Shiro drank what little there was down; if it could help him, he'd take it. Strong arms took his and pushed him to the floor. A weight settled over his hips, and he felt calloused hands rub against the skin. Shiro could feel something warm inside him; he felt light, happy, like he could fall asleep. He closed his eyes, letting his head tilt to the side.

 

“Shiro, are you _really_ asleep?”  
“Hm?” _Keith._ He looked _so_ real. Shiro brought his hands up, running one through his hair, and the other smoothing his jawline. _Is this how he'd feel if I touched him?_ Shiro's eyes stung as he pulled him down with all his strength, flipping him on to his back and kissing him deeply. Keith moaned against the kiss, pressing his hands against Shiro's chest and unhooking the clasps. The two pulled apart, panting, and Shiro gazed into those amethyst eyes as he pushed the dark hair back. “I'm going to be so careful with you.”  
“What do you mean?” Keith cocked his head to the side. Shiro sat on top of his hips, pushing away the fabric carefully as he admired the smooth pale skin. _No scars, he's fine, not hurt. Safe._ Right now, Keith was the only thing he wanted more then anything from Earth. He'd forgo mac and cheese, cats, and Adam. Hell, he'd give up the Garrison if he could have the real Keith here in his arms. “I mean, I'll go slow. I want you to be comfortable.” Shiro pressed his lips against Keith's again and gently pinched at his nipples. Keith made soft noises, dragging his nails over Shiro's broad shoulders.

 

Keith kissed him again, moving his hands down and unbuttoning his trousers. Shiro tugged them down with one hand, while Keith tried to push the leather shorts down. It was difficult between the desperate kisses. He was so distracting. Shiro moved to let Keith kick off his trousers and pushed his fingers into the dark locks, just enjoying the feeling against his skin. “Are you gonna just play with my hair?” Keith breathed as he used his feet to push down the leather. Shiro jolted as he felt something soft rub against the base of his cock. He looked down to find Keith rubbing against him with his foot. “That's new.”  
“Thought I'd try – you seem distracted.”  
“Y-Yeah. Just...you,” Shiro could feel the heat pool in his face and gut. He wasn't sure what feelings were real and which were coming from the drugs and hallucinogenics. Keith made a small laugh, and it sounded like music to his ears. It was just like all the times Shiro told him really bad space jokes but he genuinely found them funny, even though they were crap.

 

“Shit,” Shiro grit his teeth and pushed himself back on his knees. He took Keith's semi-hard cock in his hands firmly, teasing the end. Keith arched his back underneath him, pushing himself into the touch and whining his name. _Keep saying it just like that_. Fuck, he had it bad. It was likely aphrodisiac, of course it was. Shiro pulled his hips up high and ran his tongue over the head, drawing small circles and pressing against the tip intermittently. He gave it a graze with his teeth as he dropped his hand to the base and made shallow but firm strokes. “S-Shiro!” He pushed himself deeper into Shiro's mouth, who simply moaned around his length. With his prosthetic, he slowly teased against the rather slick hole. It didn't matter if it was slick, because he could feel the heat coming from his own body and could _feel_ his own trickle down his skin.

 

He pushed a finger in slowly and teased his entrance. Keith moaned and pushed himself into the finger, inadvertently going further into Shiro's mouth. Shiro felt Keith's fingers ghost against his own cock. He shifted his body a little closer. He felt him carefully play with the piercing, pushing the hoop around and gently tugging at it. “K-Keith, _fuck,”_ that felt so good. He pushed his hips forward, and Keith did it again but rougher this time. Shiro moaned around his cock. He heard Keith's small gasps and whines, and set his hips down. He shifted his position, letting Keith have easier access to his cock, while he returned to stimulating him. Shiro let out a loud moan when he felt a tongue cautiously lap at him. Through the heady haze, he glanced down, watching Keith slowly inch down his length. They both moaned and whined, Shiro trying to avoid just fucking his throat.

 

Sendak watched with drunken curiosity as his slave bucked his hips up against Zestera. Gnov was hanging off his shoulder, her hand rubbing small circles against his chest. “He's reeally into it, isn't he?”  
“Yea.”  
“Maaybe, since our slaaaves caan get on, we should...” she trailed off, running her other hand over his rather obvious bulge. Sendak was drunk, but not stupid. He batted her hand away. “Sen-Sen, don't be like thaaat.”  
“You're hammered. There's nothing there, and I am not a convenience.”  
“Better then haaavin' to pretend,” she jabbed her claw towards Zestera. “Only fuckin' point of it.” Sendak wasn't sure how to respond to that, and he really didn't want to either. He was not going to make a scene. He ignored all her touching, batting her hands away, and tried to just focus on his slave. By this point he'd brought Zestera onto their hands and knees, his face buried between their legs. For once, even they looked like they were enjoying themselves.

 

“Shiro! It's..it's.”  
“Shh, it's okay,” he stared through the heat down at Keith, his hair a mess and a light sheen of sweat over his skin. He was giving him a heady look from over his shoulder, and Shiro was completely entranced. He wanted to earn more looks like that, make him so undone. He felt his own cock twitch as his mind raced. Shaking his head, he kneaded his human hand against the skin. He didn't like touching Keith with the prosthetic – he didn't want to expose him to the reminder he wasn't all human any more. Genetically he was, but things had changed, he had changed. He licked his lips and probed Keith's entrance a final time, earning a growled moan, and pressed the tip of his cock against it. Keith shuddered underneath him, rolling his hips back and giving Shiro that look from a few ticks ago. “Fuck, you're beautiful,” he mumbled as he pushed himself in against the warm slick.

 

Keith cried out in pleasure, his body tense for a few ticks before slowly relaxing. Shiro ran his fingers down his spine, letting his calloused hands feel every bump of the vertebrae. _He's so soft_. “I-Is it okay? Does it hurt?” He watched Keith shake his head no, and felt himself relax. “Good, I'm gonna make you feel good, Keith. Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”  
“I will,” he breathed, easing himself back along Shiro's length. _Fuck, that view._ Shiro couldn't pull his eyes away. The heat in his body only increased, and he pushed himself fully in to the hilt. They both made breathy growls as Shiro eased back and slowly thrust back in. Keith may be slick, but Shiro didn't want to rush him. His eyes shone bright below as he watched Shiro, and it felt all his misery and pain was seared away. Keith could banish the darkness. _Only Keith._ He may have given himself to Sendak, but this was entirely different; there was no pain here, no bad memories, no need to fear his reproach or Keith himself. _Don't put him on a pedestal – we can't manage any more intense emotions. We won't see him in the flesh, and remember this isn't really him._ Shiro may've thrust too hard because Keith hissed underneath him. Shiro kissed his skin, huskily apologising as he rubbed his sharp hip bones. He snaked his hand around Keith's small waist and stroked him slowly, feeling the damp beads against his fingers. Shiro breathed out his name again and groaned as Keith clamped around him, back arching as Shiro struck his sweet spot. “S-Shiro, _please, harder._ ” That was all he needed to snap his hips back and thrust sharply back in.

 

He wanted to see Keith's face as he felt himself get closer. Shiro pulled out, a long whine escaping from the body beneath him as he flipped him onto his back. Shiro easily slipped back inside and bit down on Keith's swollen lips. “Fuck,” Shiro murmured, cracking his eyes half-open as he felt legs wrap around his hips, locking Shiro in place. “C-Close.”  
“S-Same.” They kissed again, making higher and higher moans until Shiro choked out a moan as he came, Keith's walls keeping him in place as he felt something warm spray over his stomach. Shiro pushed his fringe from his eyes as he caressed Keith's jawline. His eyes were bleary, content-looking. Shiro wanted to do it all over again; he wanted Keith to experience as much pleasure as he could give him.

 

A very drunk Trugg staggered over, Ladnok attempting to steady her. Shiro's reverie was interrupted as she dragged Banlu away by her hand, while Ladnok tapped the two slaves Zarkon had sent on the shoulder, the two completely engrossed with each other. They untangled their limbs and followed in tow. _You realise you've been fucking a dream-Keith in front of a room full of Galra, right?_ He felt his face burn. He dared to glance down to find Zestera wiping at their mouth, eyes heavy and cheeks just as flushed. “Fuck _me_. I don't want to admit it, but I needed that.”  
“I-I...”  
“Don't. It was...gentle. It's been deca-phoebs – many...deca-phoebs.” Zestera's lips tugged upwards. “Got company, by the way.” Shiro felt hands grip him under his arms and he was hoisted up.

 

“You're coming with me,” he didn't recognise the voice, and reality struck him _hard_. _Where was Sendak. He was supposed to be here._ Shiro whipped his head about, uncertainty rising in his chest. He watched as Zestera was scooped up by some female Galra, drunkenly shoving their clawed fingers into their hole. One licked Shiro's come from her fingers, casting him a curious look. _No. Just no._ He couldn't give her a pleading look, that would probably just arouse her.

 

He was carried away to one of the cabana's and tossed onto a mattress. Shiro looked up to see a board Galra settle over him, tilting Shiro's face from side to side. “Didn't look at your face properly. Strong, I like it. Commander, do you mind?”  
“Not at all, so long as you can share nicely with Officer Helka.” Shiro pushed the Galra's wrists away to see Sendak lounged leisurely on the bed opposite, a few other Galra sat close beside him. He offered Shiro a disingenuous smirk, and he felt the nausea rise. Shiro swallowed, looking around at the occupants. “Who's...Officer Helka, Commander?”  
“I am,” Shiro looked up and felt his stomach drop further if it was possible. She cocked her head to the side and settled beside the male Galra next to him. “Oh, Commander, he's so much smaller in person!”  
“He is, Officer Helka. You must be excited.” Shiro knew the colour had drained from his face, because Sendak's smirk just seemed to grow impossibly wide. He had no idea what he'd done now.

 

She leaned down and through shaky hands, ran her fingers over his skin. “It's soft! Not fur-soft, but soft. Kinda tacky?”  
“Ahh, his species sweat when they exert themselves.” _Was it because of how he fucked Zestera? Was this petty revenge?_ Shiro cast Sendak an unsettled look, but the Commander ignored it if he even noticed. “Either way, he's just so _pretty,_ ” she turned her attention to Shiro and leaned down, licking against his lips. “I've been a fan for a while, and come and watch you train when I can. To think I can...” she trailed her hands over his scars, giggling to herself as she kneaded his skin harder and harder, apparently gaining more confidence to touch him. He'd almost forgotten about the male Galra, who was tracing his fingers over his thighs and touching all his cuts. Shiro jolted as he ran his claws along one, automatically raising his hips. The Galra chuckled as he pressed a finger against Shiro's entrance. His body reacted like he hadn't came not even five dobosh's ago, and he hissed through his teeth as he was pushed back into the sheets.

 

Helka laid down next to him and rubbed her face against his cheek, small brr-noises coming from her throat much like a cat. Shiro's brow creased as he tried to push down the sick feeling in his stomach. “I don't want this.” He whispered. The two Galra stopped touching him to look at each other, and both turned to look at Sendak. Shiro tilted his head, glaring over at the Commander. “I told you, I _can't._ ”  
“Is it you _can't_ or _won't_?” Sendak sat up. Shiro considered the question. He'd rather be punished – he wasn't going to compromise himself like this for _anyone_. “I won't. This,” he motioned to Helka, “is a personal affront. Shred or sear my skin – whatever – but not this.” He pulled his body away and sat on his knees, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring daggers at Sendak. He'd compromised too much of himself already, and right now, stupid as it was, he was daring the Commander.

 

Sendak flicked his wrist and the two Galra moved hastily away. He rose from the bed, smoothing out his coat as he stepped forward. “I wonder how long you can keep that look of defiance about you, because like always, it will go.” The slave grit his teeth at the remark, growling out a retort instead of answering. He was so bestial when he was angered, and Sendak did thoroughly enjoy taming it. It was all worth pressing his buttons, especially when it yielded moments like this. There were of course, more buttons he _could_ press, and he could dig out all the fight his slave still had within him. He couldn't have a boring slave, after all.

 

“Officer Helka was so excited as well, you've upset her. Shouldn't you feel bad?”  
“I...” Shiro glanced at Helka, who was holding on to the other Galra who sat between his thighs looking crestfallen. He turned his attention back to Sendak, who had used the ticks to loom above him. Shiro swallowed but remained steadfast. “I told you. Don't try to guilt me into this. Besides, you said I was entertainment.” Shiro shifted backwards but kept his gaze steady. Sendak chuckled, grabbing his chin in his hand. “You're not finished entertaining.”  
“Then you're going to have to force my compliance.” Sendak leaned in close, his voice only audible for Shiro. “You seemed to comply fine enough when you let all those officers fuck you. Or how about your first session? That was a treat to watch.” Shiro felt his blood run cold when Sendak's hot breath got so close to his ear. “Or when you let the beasts have you-”

 

“ _Shut your mouth_!” He slammed his prosthetic fist into Sendak's jaw, the Commander pulling away sharply as he rubbed the cheek. Shiro's entire body burned with rage as he withdrew his fist, sniffing coldly as he glared at Sendak. He couldn't run, and he wouldn't; he'd face Sendak and the Galra down himself if he had to because he _would not give in_. He'd dug himself this pit and he didn't care how high the walls were, he'd break his nails to scrabble back out. He watched Sendak wipe his mouth and study his hand for a few ticks. “You drew blood.”  
“ _Good_.” He let out a guttural snarl and launched himself from the bed, grabbing the Commander's organic arm and yanking him down with his weight.

 

He could hear the occupants back away or out – he didn't know or care to check as he yanked the arm tight, rolling himself up to his feet and pulling Sendak's weight with strength from who knew where. “You always like a fight, yeah? You have one.” Shiro cracked a vindictive smile. Sendak barked out a laugh and tugged his arm. He almost lost his footing but curled his toes into the cold floor as he strained backwards. “You forever amuse me, slave.”  
“That's not my fucking name!” Shiro spat as he caught Sendak's forearm between his prosthetic. He bent the metal back at the elbow, levering it with his human arm to apply as much pressure as he could. He blinked at the fingers, then looked at the inhibitor.

 

“Don't you _dare_.” Sendak growled low as the realisation suddenly dawned on him. He balled his fist and Shiro could feel the muscle tense under the fur. “Where's your honour, Commander?” Shiro hissed, “why don't we make this a fair fight?”  
“This fight will never be fair!” Sendak snarled. His eyes flashed dangerously as he dropped back to the floor. The arm that Shiro had been straining against relaxed, and Shiro fell into the Commander's chest. Strong arms clamped around him, and Shiro squirmed and kicked out to free himself; hissing, spitting and growling as best he could under the increasing pressure around his lungs.

 

“Where's all that fight gone?” Sendak taunted. He bared his teeth into a large grin as Shiro writhed and tried to yank an arm free. Shiro grunted in response; he couldn't afford to make unneeded noise as he felt his breathing strain in the strangle-hold. “Ahh, no words? You understand you can't win?”  
“I'll die trying.” Shiro headbutted his chest, which ended up hurting him more then Sendak when he responded with another loud bark of laughter. Sendak released the hold enough to slam his hips into Shiro, the jolt of pain causing him to move closer to Sendak's face. Shiro glowered into the glowing eyes. Sendak caught Shiro's hair in his prosthetic as he drew his head back painfully far so his neck was exposed. “I could tear your throat out right now, and you couldn't stop me.”  
“Do it then.”  
“So _defiant_.” Sendak licked his lips. He pushed Shiro up onto his knees painfully as he sat. Without warning, the hand on his hair let go and grabbed him around the throat tightly. Shiro gasped for air, but remained glaring as hard as he could at Sendak. The Commander placed his forehead against his, and quickly drew it back and struck forward.

 

 _Crack_.

 

Shiro screamed as he tried to pull a hand free to shield his nose. Sendak made small licks at the blood that ran down his face as he hoisted Shiro up by the throat. He grabbed the hand around his neck, digging filthy nails into the fur, until he was dropped into the sheets. Sendak settled on top of him, and slowly unfastened his trousers. “You know I am forever intrigued by what you get angry over. You've let me debase and humiliate you, yet you roll over. I tell you to fuck a female Galra, and here we are. You, under me, where even you agree you belong.” Sendak emphasised the last part and Shiro glared to the side. “It was also interesting you attacked me with your Galran arm. Is it because you know it is stronger – that _we_ are stronger?”  
“F-Fuck you!”  
“I'm sure you'd love to try,” Sendak's lips drew into a broad smile, “however, there's only one person I would allow that to.” Sendak rubbed his cock over Shiro's bloody cheek, smearing pre-come over his face. “You look filthy. Like the good little whore you were trained to be.”  
“I swear you're getting off on all this. You're a sadistic prick.” Shiro panted. The blood dripped into his mouth as he tried to breathe. Sendak cocked his head to the side, giving him a predatory look Shiro hadn't seen in phoebs. “I would have thought you'd of guessed by now,” he ran the head of his stiff cock over Shiro's mouth, teasing the entrance, “I've a predilection for violence. And you, my degenerate of a slave, keep my needs sated.” Sendak eased himself in, Shiro coughing blood around the thick length as it hit the back of his throat. Sendak gave him a perverted look as he remained where he was, trailing his claws through the blood.

 

“Even without my cock in your mouth, you don't deny anything.” He mused, rubbing his fingers together. He glanced down at the slave, eyes wide as he tried to breathe through all the saliva, blood and his cock. Sendak hummed and pulled himself out, moving towards Shiro's hips and raising them up. His ears pricked as the slave hacked up whatever was in his throat or lungs, but his focus remained on what he wanted right now: release. There was enough slick there still, and it wasn't like the blood and spit wouldn't do either as he pushed it in without much further thought. The slave coughed sharply, the little spasms feeling good against Sendak's length. “What are you, slave?”

 

If Shiro had the capacity for tears, he would be crying. He rolled his head, demoralised as he watched Sendak roll his hips forward. He choked on a moan. _Even this feels good. What the fuck am I any more?_ “You've already admitted you're mine, you still want my forgiveness, and your collar. Why the hesitation?” Sendak growled, thrusting into him sharply. Shiro arched his back, feeling his cock harden again. “You know I'm proud of you for landing a blow.” Shiro clenched the sheets, panting heavily, as he felt the cock piercing tugged at. “I-I'm yours, Commander.”  
“But what _are_ you?” Shiro moaned as the bruises on his hips were pressed. He didn't know, he couldn't think. It hurt but it felt good. He hated Sendak with a passion but in the same breath he still did so much for him. He wasn't even _mad_ when he should be – he'd insulted Sendak in front of other Galra, how this played out as it did he didn't understand – couldn't understand. Was it that Sendak got off _that_ much on him fighting back, or was there something he was missing? He'd always kiss him if he acted Galran – was that it? He couldn't remember. He had to answer Sendak; he needed too.

 

“I-I don't know.” He coughed into his hand as Sendak hit his prostate, the groan catching in his throat. Sendak clicked his tongue as he picked up the pace. Shiro knew what was coming – another monologue. “You are my depraved beast. You've murdered so many in the arena, and then there's the ones that took no coaxing at all. You act like an animal in heat as soon as you receive the slightest touch, and gods, you have taken so much to sate your deviant ways, haven't you?” Sendak cupped his face gently, “and like an animal, you've laid with them. But gods, that's not even the worst of it, is it? Your dear friend you left in Haxus's care? Haxus assured me he was so very well-behaved, he barely cried at all. He even came for him, all over the desk.”  
“S-Sendak, _stop_. Please.” Shiro tried to struggle but the words had done their damage.  
“Shh, I'm helping you, _reforming_ you. To do that, I need you to see all your reprehensible sides, _accept_ them as part of you. Just like how you have accepted your arm,” he stroked the metal almost affectionately, “your human emotions hinder you; they've turned you in to this deplorable monster.” Shiro stared up at Sendak, mouth moving but no words coming out.

 

 _He was right, oh god he was right._ No, no this was so wrong, so messed up. _No, we are a monster. He's trying to help us, offering us a salvation from it all._ No, he's condemning us to be like them. _Do you think we could be accepted back on Earth like we are now? What hope is there? None. He's safety – he hasn't harmed us. What's a broken nose in the grand scheme of things?_ But- _But nothing. It's decided, we're letting him re-purpose us. Fuck what we learned on Earth – we aren't surviving, are we? This could have gone so much worse._ It...could have. So what do we live for? _For livings sake._ Then what life is that? _It's one until we find a purpose. It'll become apparent, in time. Can't you tell there's something happening in the background? Wheels are in motion, and we'll find out in due course._

 

“C-Can you fix me?” That alone almost made Sendak climax. He bit down on his lip as he gripped those bruised hips harder. “Of course. You may be a broken mess, but as I have said so many times, I can see your potential.” He smeared the blood on the slaves lips over his cheek, “you may keep losing your way, but let me help you, _guide you_ , along a much better path. Do you accept this?” Sendak was only just holding back his release. He watched the slave pant and writhe, before he looked up at him. “I accept. Fix me. I don't want to be a monster or a beast.” Sendak let out a deep purr as he slammed himself with vigour into the slave's hips. The slave could barely moan or gasp, and grabbed their own erection. He came first, and then Sendak emptied himself. He dropped the slave's thighs down and leaned over his body, those grey eyes glittering in the low light. “Thank you, Commander.”

 

-

 

“I'm taking you to the bathroom to clean you up.” Shiro nodded in response, letting himself rest in Sendak's arms. He could have just dragged Shiro back, but no, Sendak had carried him from the party. He eventually felt himself lowered into something soft, and he watched Sendak place the clothes he'd worn earlier to the side. Sendak wrung out the cloth and carefully cleaned Shiro's skin. He leaned in, giving the slave a small lick over the clean collarbone.

 

“I'll get you some quintessence.” He padded over to the cupboard and pulled out a collection of needles that Ulaz had given him in case he needed to patch up any small jobs. He presumed this counted as a small job, although he had no idea how much he needed to use. He'd prefer to have his face healed as quickly as possible. He took the box over with him and settled next to his slave's body, watching him struggle to breathe through his mouth. Catching his nose, and a hoarse whine emitting from his slave's lips, he placed the needle in a small gap between two fingers and emptied it. He applied all four needles – two on each side. He watched the slave curiously as he brought his fingers up to his nose, lightly touching it. “It's warm, Commander. It's really warm.”  
“Quintessence is warm, slave.”  
“No, it's...it's...hot.” Sendak tilted his head to the side, he'd not heard of that effect before. “It's probably just fixing the bone. Let's finish cleaning you up.” He returned the needles to the box and grabbed the cloth again, dabbing carefully at his bloody face.

 

“My eyes feel weird – everything seems...blurred? Brighter?” Shiro tapped Sendak's arm. The Commander turned, his expression changing from curiosity to bewilderment. He grabbed Shiro's face, tracing a claw under his eyes. “W-What's happened?”  
“They glow.”  
“They _what_?” Shiro screwed his eyes shut, then opened them again. He blinked and rubbed his eyes in a futile attempt. Sendak scooped him into his arms and took him to the bedroom. He grabbed his communicator and skimmed the contact list. “Clothe yourself; I'm contacting Ulaz. You need to see him immediately.” Shiro swallowed and grabbed the tailed robe and tightened the belt as Sendak busily spoke. He cut the call and turned to Shiro. “We're going out again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we all know who's created the 'monster' Shiro's 'become'...Commander-fucking-Sendak. A round of applause for the disgusting emotionally manipulative asshole. /end sarcasm
> 
> Yes, so we at least got some Sheithy moments in there, and of course some twisted Shendak. At least we can see Ulaz again...right? Soon.
> 
> I will let Shiro have some rest time shortly. I had to delete all I had of chapter 27 and restart it since I changed what happened quite drastically. But oof, that poor boy this chapter. It's a shame quintessence doesn't heal the mind.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'm always happy to hear your thoughts.


	27. Reconstructing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've come down ill again with the flu/a fever and not been able to write a lot lately because I've been sleeping or not with it enough. All of this inbetween work as well D:
> 
> After last chapter, this is generally speaking MUCH nicer. There's a couple of intense bits, but some leans on the better side. Kinda, anyway, the end is up in the air a bit and up to how you want to take it - that bit I'm leaving with you lot :)
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely comments and the kudos!

Ulaz rubbed his eyes as he stared at the results of the hand scanner. The quintessence levels were far too high. Shiro's pupils were barely visible through the soft white glow, and he couldn't be sure yet if this would be temporary or long-term. “You said you gave him four injections?” He looked over to Sendak, who leaned against the wall watching intently. “Yes. Two each side of his nose.”  
“The dosage in each of those needles was enough to repair his nose in a few vargas. You didn't need to apply them all.”  
“I wanted him healed,” Sendak growled low as he stepped towards them, tilting Shiro's head up in his prosthetic. “Is it long-term?”  
“I won't know. I need to observe him overnight.”  
“Shall we go to the labs?”  
“No. I would prefer the High Priestess not get wind of this.” Ulaz folded his arms over his chest. “If she did, I have a feeling you won't be seeing him for a while.” He watched Sendak smooth the metal finger over Shiro's jaw before letting his head drop. “I suppose you have a point.”  
“I can look after him here tonight. It's late, and I presume you have meetings in the morning?”  
“I do. You are able to stay at mine with him if you wish – I have the space.”  
“Well I have a few things to do here, and judging from his disposition, he looks completely exhausted.” Ulaz had noted how lethargic his body was, and wasn't certain if it was the quintessence or something else. He had a suspicion there were a few things at play.

 

“So remind me what happened to his nose?”  
“I broke it.”  
“Why?” He watched Sendak tap his cheek, and Ulaz noted the slight swelling. “What prompted him to do that? I thought he was well-behaved?”  
“He would not preform a task I asked of him, and lost his temper. Of course, I've reminded him of his place.”  
“I'm sure you have, Commander.” Ulaz's eyes roamed the skin that was visible, noting all the new cuts, bruises and scars. He didn't like this, and his quintant had already been terrible enough getting back to Central.

 

“If you don't mind, I need to head out. You can uncuff him if you wish, but he was difficult coming here.” Sendak stretched and took the white strands between his claws, smoothing it out straight. “The glow suits you. It may not be the same as ours, but it's a start.” Sendak caught the slave's face, giving his forehead a small lick. “You behave now for Officer Ulaz, or I'll be pulling some of your privileges, understand?”  
“Yes, Commander,” the slave kept eye contact until Sendak let his face fall. “You are a good boy.”  
“Thank you, Commander.” Sendak could feel his lips tug into a smile. It had been a very good evening, and he was looking forward to dreaming of when the slave had completely accepted his lot with them. Providing he won in the arena and stayed as the Champion, Sendak would have many more options to play with. He bade farewell to them both, and headed out of Ulaz's strange and vacant apartment.

 

Shiro felt his wrists picked up and the handcuffs removed. He watched Ulaz set them down on the table and sit opposite him. “Are you okay?” Shiro slowly tilted his head up, blinking at Ulaz. God, he wanted to tell him everything, but he  _couldn't_ . Ulaz had betrayed his trust and how could Shiro forgive him? It was these human feelings, he needed to burn his bridges – cut himself off – his mind screamed it was unhealthy, but what was healthy any more? What was real any more? Thinking was too much. He was so exhausted, so emotionally and mentally bankrupt.

 

Ulaz covered his ears as Shiro screamed. He just kept screaming until the noise whittled down to nothing but cracked air. Ulaz wasn't sure what to do, except he knew he couldn't stand for this. He brought Shiro into a tight embrace, letting him scream against his chest. “It's alright-” he winced when fingers dug into his back.  
“Get off me.”  
“S-Shiro, please.”  
“No, no, don't touch me. I can't – not again tonight. I won't let you.”  
“I'm not going to hurt you.”  
“You _did_. I thought I could trust you – you felt like a _friend_. I was so fucking stupid.” He pushed himself away, pacing around like a caged animal. “I don't want to be here.”  
“I can't let you leave.”  
“Then make me stay.” Shiro glared at him, the glow somehow looking more intense. Ulaz sighed, rubbing his brow. “You won't be able to disengage my lock.”  
“Then I'll punch my way out.”  
“You're not breaking the door.” Ulaz paced slowly towards him. He may need to use the cuffs after all.

 

Shiro watched Ulaz like a hawk. He was getting out. He brought his guard up as he moved towards the door. “Shiro, I'm not going to fight you. I'm not hurting you.”  
“Fight me.”  
“For the love of Lilja, I'm not doing it.”  
“ _Coward!_ ” He lunged forward, aiming his fist at Ulaz's chest. As he drew close, Ulaz caught his arm, twisting and bringing Shiro over his shoulder. As he hit the floor, his prosthetic was brought round and pinned against his back. He bucked his hips upward as Ulaz settled over his legs, hissing and growling. 

 

It took a few dobosh's until Shiro stilled. Ulaz kept his grip firm on the arm, but not tight enough to cause him any damage. “I'm not fighting you, Shiro. You're not well.” There was silence again, then Shiro's body convulsed under him; choked sobs rattling from his lips. Ulaz settled on his knees next to Shiro, letting him curl in on himself. It hurt, this wasn't right. He didn't know what had happened over the last two movements, or even tonight, but Shiro was breaking apart and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't send him back to Earth like this; he wasn't sure how the Earthlings would treat him after all this time. From what he'd gathered from Shiro, it'd taken almost two phoebs for them to get to Kerberos, and he'd been with the Galra for perhaps three phoebs now. If Shiro's maths was correct, he'd been away from Earth for roughly ten Earth-months at this point – six of those in captivity.

 

Ulaz carefully scooped Shiro from the floor and gently laid him down back on the sofa. He touched his forehead, frowning at how hot his skin felt. “I'll be back in a few ticks.” He quickly jogged from the room to the bathroom, rummaging through for something soft for his skin. He hissed when all he could find was a towel, and ran it under the tap before wringing it out. His ears twitched.  _Was that a bang?_ He paused mid-wring. Again.  _What the fuck is he doing now?_ Ulaz pulled out one of the small medical kits, grabbing a light sedative. He held it between his teeth as he ran back into the room. At first he couldn't find Shiro, until he paced around to see him sat in the corner. The glow was dull as he brought his head back against the wall. Ulaz winced as he dropped down onto his knees, setting the sedative aside. He grabbed Shiro's face, his expression unreadable.

 

“When did I become a monster?”  
“Shiro?”  
“Was it when I hurt Matt? When I killed Myzax? Or was it when I started to bond with the monsters?”  
“What do you mean by monsters?” He watched Shiro tilt his head up, “well who else would it be? You – the Galra.”  
“W-Why do you think you're a monster, Shiro?” Ulaz swallowed the lump in his throat as Shiro motioned at himself. “Look at me. I used to be really calm, really kind. I've killed and been so cruel – I'm not even really human any more, and if I could call any of you friends, well, you're all monsters too.”  
“You're not a monster, Shiro.”  
“That's rich coming from the mouth of one.” Ulaz closed his eyes. He could understand why Shiro hurt, but he had no idea how much it'd hurt him too.

 

“Do you want to forget?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“On my travels I got you something.”  
“Why would you get me something?”  
“Because, so much as you may not believe me, I hate myself for what I did to you.”  
“Why would you hate yourself?” Ulaz sighed. He always had so many questions. “I've grown very fond of your company. You're an interesting person, Shiro, and I enjoy talking to you.”  
“So...why did you...?”  
“In my stupidity and haste, I went with the one thing I knew that would 'work'. I didn't want the Commander or the Druids to find out – I didn't want you to die.”  
“Why didn't you ignore it?”  
“Because if my mind was every checked, we'd both be dead.”  
“Won't they know anyway you lied?”  
“Not with what I have for you.” Ulaz moved back to give Shiro some space.

 

Shiro wasn't sure if Ulaz was telling the truth, or whether this was a ruse. He pushed himself back into the wall, drawing himself in. “You said you hate yourself for what you did?”  
“Yes.”  
“How much did you hate yourself?” Shiro narrowed his eyes, watching for any tells that he was lying. He was surprised when Ulaz tensed up, drawing his shoulders in. He couldn't even look at him. “So you didn't really-”  
“You want to see?” _See? See what? What did he do?_ Shiro nodded cautiously as Ulaz swallowed. He watched him unfasten his armour, Shiro already not certain where this was going, and move around with his back to him. He slowly unclipped the front and sat there silently for a few ticks. “Pull the fabric down.” His voice was devoid of emotion. It unsettled Shiro. 

 

Ulaz screwed his eyes shut in shame as he felt fingers brush against the fur on the back of his neck. He let Shiro pull the fabric down over his shoulders and swallowed when he felt the cool air hit the exposed fur. There was a sharp intake of breath behind him. He knew Shiro was going to question him. “What...is all this?”  
“A reminder of my sins.”  
“Who...did this to you?”  
“I did.” He felt nervous fingers trace the deep scars on his back. “Why would you...do this?”  
“To punish myself for what I've done.”  
“This is my fault.” Ulaz pulled the fabric up and fastened his body suit. “No, Shiro, this is all my fault. That's why I want to help you, even if it does mean making you forget. It's the only way to keep you truly safe. I'm sorry for burdening you with _this_ now.” He tensed when he felt arms grip around his waist. This was a surprise. “I've _missed_ you. I-I'm so s-sorry.” Ulaz felt his body shudder and his voice pitch high again as he started to cry into his shoulder. Ulaz placed a clawed hand over Shiro's, giving it a tight squeeze. “I hope you can forgive me some day. I'm sorry for betraying your trust, I really am.” He felt his own eyes prickle, and he pulled Shiro from his waist, before scooping him up.

 

“You need to rest. Do you want a sedative, or not? It's up to you.” He smoothed Shiro's fringe from his eyes, the human looking so exhausted in his arms. “I just want to sleep.”  
“Then let's get you to bed.” Ulaz offered him a small smile as he carried him through the apartment and placed him gently on top of the sheets. “Before you sleep, let me just check the back of your head. Can you roll over for me?” Shiro turned to his side. Ulaz gently touched the skin, pressing lightly. Shiro hissed a few times in pain. “Do you feel light-headed?”  
“No, just hot and tired. I...was given aphrodisiacs and hallucinogenics again earlier.”  
“Why?”  
“Entertainment at Ladnok's party,” Shiro yawned, “Zestera offered because Sendak said I had to pleasure a woman. That's why he broke my nose – I refused.” _So that explains that._ “The aphrodisiac was the same type as the synthetic from before.”  
“So outside of Zestera, what else happened?” Ulaz settled beside Shiro on the bed, gently stroking his arm. “I got carried into a room where two Galra wanted to do stuff to me at the same time. One was male – the other female. I said no, Sendak came over and I lashed out at him. I get I probably deserved it...maybe I should have just swallowed my pride and done it? It may not've been that bad-”  
“No, Shiro, you did the right thing,” Ulaz rubbed his arm harder, “you should never compromise yourself like that.” Shiro looked up at him, nodding slowly. Ulaz wasn't sure whether he really agreed. “I managed to knock Sendak to the floor though. I think I'm getting stronger.”  
“It's all that training-”  
“He still defeated me in the end. Being a human is pretty useless out here, huh?”  
“Don't talk about yourself like that, you're not useless.”  
“He broke my nose, almost choked me with his dick, and then fucked me until I conceded I'd become a monster. The latter is true, it's okay, you don't need to be nice about it. Is it wrong I get off on this though? I have for a while. Ulaz, I'm so fucked up.” Ulaz placed a claw to his mouth to silence him. He was hurting himself talking like this; getting worked up again.

 

“May I hug you?” Shiro looked up to Ulaz, then back at the bare bedside counter. Ulaz didn't have much stuff, kinda like him back at the Garrison. He rarely kept much – it was easier if he had to travel. “I'd...like that.” He squeaked as Ulaz pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing Shiro's body against his lean one. He could fall asleep in his arms. Shiro rested his face in the crook of his neck and closed his eyes. “I've missed you. Did you know you smelt a bit sweet?”  
“Thank you,” Ulaz ran his fingers over the skin, still noting it was quite warm. “Let me do my best to look after you. I swear on my honour I'll never hurt you again.” Ulaz whispered, and Shiro hummed in response. He pressed his lips against Ulaz's neck. “Take that as my forgiveness. I just...need to sleep.”  
“Can I check your eyes?”  
“Mmm.” Shiro opened them, and Ulaz nodded slowly. “They're still glowing, but they aren't as bright as earlier.”  
“That's good.” Shiro yawned again, and let Ulaz lay him back onto the sheets. “Good night, Ulaz.”  
“Good night, Shiro.” He felt his weight lift from the mattress.

 

He wasn't sure whether he should be happy with how quickly it took Shiro to drop off. At first he wasn't sure he was even breathing. Ulaz rubbed his eyes – they stung with strain and stress, but he couldn't sleep, he had work to do. He rose and quietly stepped from the room to make himself a drink and collect his tablet. From previous experiments he'd ran in the past regarding quintessence exposure on behalf of Haggar, he was doubtful the effects would remain long-term and Shiro would be fine. Nonetheless, he couldn't be presumptuous based on previous data. He mentally scolded himself; Shiro wasn't data, he was his own person, just like all the others. He refilled the kettle and left it to boil to collect a mug.

 

As he set it down, his thoughts wandered back to the man asleep in his room. It was what he spoke about – not being human – he was struggling to grasp. The Galra had always been a race that was quite content with the rationale that they lived to face down death depending on their pursuits in life, which eventually over thousands of deca-phoebs pre their space exploration era, transformed into the mantra of “victory or death”. Some groups, like the Blade of Marmora, believed in “knowledge or death”. They may mourn the dead, but they would still celebrate the life they'd led. He poured the water, and stirred his drink, still lost. Did humans not have a unified purpose? He recalled when he first met the three humans in his labs for testing, and how each was very different to the next. He'd need to talk to Shiro, and see if discussing home would do him so good. Perhaps jogging his memory was the best way. If anything it gave him an anchor point which he seriously needed right now.

 

He settled in a seat by the end of the bed and took out his tablet, flicking through to see if he had a copy of Shiro's data in Galran on him. It would only likely be what the intelligence had gathered, but it was a start. It would also keep his mind busy while he observed Shiro for the next few vargas, and he had to admit, Shiro's Earth stories were interesting to listen to.

 

-

 

He'd been restless during the night and woken a few times covered in sweat. Ulaz had to tell him two separate times where he was and why he was here. It'd then taken him half a varga to settle back into sleep. Regardless, he seemed to have woken in a good enough mood besides the nightmares. That was another thing he'd need to pick his brain about in due time. “Would you like some tea?” Ulaz raised his mug, and Shiro nodded, offering him a grateful smile. “Where's the bathroom?” He asked as Ulaz went to leave the room. “Ah, just through that door there.” He pointed and left, hearing his footfalls behind him.

 

A few dobosh's later, Shiro emerged in the doorway, yawning and blinking around. “Do you not like decoration? Your place is really sparse.” Ulaz looked up thoughtfully. “I've never been one to have many possessions. What I keep is what I need, and I'm never hugely fond of staying in Central Command these quintants.”  
“Why?”  
“Just memories of things I would prefer to forget.”  
“Ah, I'm sorry.”  
“There's no need to apologise,” Ulaz muttered as he poured them both drinks, and pushed the mug towards Shiro, “it isn't your fault you have questions. Knowledge is a good thing.”  
“I thought the Galra hated questions?” Ulaz couldn't help but chuckle as he blew on his drink. “We don't like questions about our operations or perhaps if they are a bit too probing. However,” he noted Shiro shift awkwardly, “sometimes it's just down to our moods. Do you remember when you used to give me such disdainful looks when you used to ask me questions and I wouldn't answer how you wished?”  
“I do a bit, but it feels so long ago now that it's hard to remember. There's,” he looked hard at the floor, “generally a lot of better memories attached now.” He took a sip, jerking away and sticking his tongue out, seemingly panting, Ulaz wasn't sure. “Are you okay?”  
“Burned my tongue,” he quickly set the mug down and ran his tongue under the tap, groaning as he shook his head. “Sorry, it really hurts.” Ulaz made a small chuckle as he picked the mug up again and blew it a few times. “Well it's not long boiled.”  
“I know...it's morning, I'm not really awake yet, and usually I end up making tea for Sendak.”  
“I didn't realise he drank it that frequently.”  
“Yeah,” Shiro raised the mug, “it tastes different but that's it. Back on Earth we have loads of different types – one place I went to once had about two hundred.”  
“Just on your planet alone? That's quite a lot.” Ulaz was a bit surprised, but then he didn't exactly know a lot about Earth even after his reading – he never got around to its geography or flora.

 

Shiro smiled as he leaned against the counter. “Our planet has – or had – a lot of different species on it for a long time. There's been mass extinctions, like the dinosaurs or during the ice age, and then my species done a lot of damage too to wild populations.”  
“What on Diabazaal is a dinosaur, or an ice age?”  
“Dinosaurs were these giant reptiles that lived on Earth millions and millions of Earth-years ago. Some lived in the seas, others in the skies, and on land. Mammals – what humans and...I want to say some Galra since you've got fur, evolved from – were also starting to evolve alongside them. An ice age...did Diabazaal not have polar ice caps?”  
“Our planet was rocky and had some flat lands, but a portion was always in perpetual darkness, so it's possible. Commander Sendak would be better to ask, since he used to live there. I was born elsewhere and after it's destruction.” Ulaz sipped his tea and tilted his head to the side, “so an ice age is?”  
“Oh, sorry. So pretty much the Earth's surface and atmospheric temperature reduces over a long period of time, and it gives rise either to continental or polar ice sheets forming or expanding. In some cases, they can expand all the way down to the equator, or only cover parts of the north and south hemispheres.”  
“It sounds like your planet can be quite dangerous.”  
“It can be I guess. I mean we have natural disasters like hurricanes, tornados, tsunamis, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, and maybe you could say super-viruses as well, but then at the same time Earth has a lot of really cool places. There's deserts and mountains, rainforests and plains, marshes and canyons...there's just a huge range of places to see and go, even the depths of the oceans. You know we've explored more of space then we have our own oceans? It's crazy.” Shiro chuckled to himself as he wiped his eyes. “It's just a shame that I won't get to see it again.” He sighed despondently into his tea. “It would've been nice to show you, one quintant.” He sipped it and set the mug on the side.

 

“I think that's enough about Earth for now, if that's okay.”  
“Of course it is. I didn't realise you'd started to feel homesick.” Ulaz motioned to the kettle but Shiro passed on another drink. “I've always wanted to explore – go out and see new things. I'd feel stuck if I just stayed on Earth and thought I'd have plenty of time to see everything as I got older, even if it would've become harder. Now, I know I won't get to do that at all. I mean, I love space and there's just _so much_ to see, but I'm just stuck here in Central Command.” Ulaz watched him for a few long dobosh's. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and checked his communicator. “The Commander won't be picking you up until the evening,” He muttered, looking over at Shiro, “and you've woken up relatively early. I can give you two choices: either we look at making you forget your memories and go to the labs, or...”  
“Or?” Shiro side-eyed him, his eyes thankfully back to normal. Ulaz offered him a toothy grin, “or, I see if I can grab us a ship and we can fly around Central. There's a moon and two gas planets outside, as well as the other rings. We won't have time to stop on anything, but-”  
“What're we waiting for? Let's grab a shuttle!” The level of excitement in his voice was infectious and his eyes sparkled. “You can seriously do that?”  
“You might not want to let the Commander _know_ , but I'm sure if I had to, I could justify it.” Shiro looked almost giddy with excitement, and Ulaz could only smile.

 

-

 

Shiro's mouth was agape as he stared out the window. The _scale_ of Central Command was mind-boggling, and the rings made him stunned as he tried to comprehend the time and resources used to make them. “So, what do you think?”  
“Everything's so... _big_.” _Yes, Shiro. 'Big' is precisely the word to use when looking at these mega-structures and marvels of engineering. Between the two languages you know, that was clearly the best word you could pick._ “It's amazing. Just...this is the stuff of Earth's science fiction, but it's _real_. It's right in front of me. The scale, the size – the fact the rings go through _planets_.”  
“It is quite the sight when you see it for the first time. You'd probably hate me when I say I don't care much for it.” Shiro whipped his head around to Ulaz, who was watching him with a playful smirk on his lips. “Are you...are you _joking_?”  
“Me? Joke? Never, I'm far too serious for jokes.” Shiro snorted and returned to staring outside. He curled his toes inside his shoes, completely transfixed by it all.

 

It had been a few vargas until Ulaz sighed. “I'll have to take us back soon.”  
“That's a shame.” Shiro was still pressed up against window, but had on occasion turned to watch Ulaz fly the shuttle. Ulaz studied him curiously, the smile on his lips euphoric. “I hope this has helped you feel a tad better. It doesn't fix it, of course, but if I can offer you some reprieve, then I'll do all I can.”  
“It's been...really nice. I've really enjoyed these few vargas in your company again. I think I feel lighter after last night, you know?”  
“Yes,” Ulaz gave him a slow nod, “I do as well.”  
“You know what might make me happier?” Shiro sidled up beside him, and Ulaz had a bad feeling as to where this conversation was going. “What's that?”  
“If you let me have a go flying the ship. I'm not a bad pilot.”  
“For Earth ships, not Galra,” Ulaz cocked an eyebrow at him, and the human sighed. “Well, of course I don't know what the controls do, and I don't think you'll let me work it out. What you can do though is guide me. So,” his look was so composed it took Ulaz by surprise, “would you do me the honour of showing me how to fly her?”

 

Ulaz knew this was a terrible idea. Thace would scold him, and if Kolivan got wind of it, he'd probably rant at him for vargas about being reckless. “Fine, but I'm still keeping my hands on the controls, and you will listen to my instructions.”  
“Suits me,” Shiro shrugged his shoulders and settled into the offered seat, cracking his fingers as he curled them round the yoke. Ulaz picked up the tiniest hum of excitement from Shiro and placed his own hands on top of his. “So do I pull this back to raise the nose?”  
“That's correct.”  
“So forward lowers it?”  
“Correct again.”  
“Left and right roll it in their respective directions?” Ulaz could hear he knew it already, “correct again.”  
“Good.” Shiro smiled up at him and looked at the panels around him. “There's no sticks or pedals, which would be weird I guess if you had them. Where's the fuel gauge...boosters?”  
“The what?”  
“Well, what's the ship running on?”  
“Quintessence.” Ulaz cocked his head to the side as Shiro gave him a bewildered look. “You heal me with craft fuel?”  
“It's used for a lot of different purposes, however the slider is here.” Ulaz pointed at the display and Shiro nodded slowly. “We should really get back, shouldn't we?” He was quicker than Ulaz was expecting. Shiro raised the fuel output and forced the yoke back towards his body, making the ship jerk upwards.

 

Shiro offered Ulaz an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, I just haven't flown in so long.”  
“Be careful of the cruiser!”  
“I see it,” Shiro tilted the yoke casually to the left, the shuttle turning with more than enough room to spare. To please Ulaz, he even straightened it out and flew the thing properly, sliding the output down to what it was before. Ulaz stared at him, somewhere between shocked and vexed. “What? You let me have a go! Do you want the controls back?”  
“Please. You fly quite...”  
“Differently?”  
“I suppose you could say that.”  
“I'm used to flying military aircraft and ships like the one to Kerberos. This is weird to fly, but not difficult either. I'd need to study the controls more.” Shiro let Ulaz take the controls back and shifted slowly from the pilot seat. He would prefer to keep flying, but he didn't want to push his luck. “It's made the quintant much better.” He gave Ulaz a small nudge, the Galra snorting in response. “We're going back now.”  
“Fine.” Shiro offered a grin as he settled back into his seat, eyes drifting back out to the stars.

 

-

 

“So far, training's been going okay. It's been a pain when it's been weapon-training quintants because I have to keep the inhibitor on.” Shiro flexed the metal fingers as he sat on the side of the fountain; the same one they came to movements' ago. “I feel it's detrimental to actually learning how to use it effectively – the arm I mean.”  
“I can see why,” Ulaz yawned, “you have got on remarkably well with it all things considered.” Ulaz gently took his hand, rotating it back and forth. “I suppose it was your dominant hand before, but you have adapted so well.”  
“That's what humans do, we adapt. I still spend time avoiding using my left, just to focus on the feeling.” Shiro pulled it back and rested it on his thigh, brow creasing as he watched the light shine off it. “I just wished it wasn't so obviously alien at times, or that I never lost it to begin with. I've noticed, heard things about this, and it makes me feel really uncomfortable. I guess...I asked for the arm, but not one with light-up action,” Shiro snorted to himself. “I guess I thought it would be cosmetic; not powerful enough to puncture bodies or break armour.”

 

“Myself and the Commander aren't entirely certain why either, however we believed at first it was so you could continue fighting. It's possible,” he raised his claws to his mouth, biting the end, “it's a trial for a new style the High Priestess is looking at.”  
“So I'm a lab rat?”  
“It's possible and with her involved, likely.” Ulaz didn't continue with what information he did know, as it would likely upset Shiro. She was rarely interested in keeping anything that wasn't a potential test subject alive. “Eat, you've barely touched anything,” Ulaz tapped his claw on the package beside him and Shiro reluctantly pulled it into his lap.

 

“Aside from weapon training, are you enjoying it? How are the other gladiators?” Ulaz took a bit of his food, watching Shiro scratch the back of his head. “They're generally an alright bunch for the most part. I think Kaleska kind of just adopted everyone as her kids, well, everyone except Nadiva. They really don't like him – because of how our fight went down. Zestera...I'm not sure about yet.”  
“That's Commander Gnov's gladiator, isn't it?”  
“Yeah.” Shiro shifted uncomfortably.  
“Why aren't you sure about them?”  
“They're quite brusque and snappy to begin with – there's a lot of anger there – but also Ladnok's party and what happened and urgh,” Ulaz watched Shiro place the package back to the side and rest his face in his hands. “It's going to be awkward.”  
“Aphrodisiacs and hallucinogenics?”  
“Yes.”  
“Did you and they?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“Did it...hurt?”  
“I don't know if I hurt them. I mean, we both knew it was going to _happen_ , but neither of us were sober, I guess?” Shiro scrubbed at his face and Ulaz pressed a hand against his prosthetic reassuringly. “I'm sure it'll all be fine.”  
“I really hope so,” Shiro stared at the floor for a few ticks, before looking back over at him.

 

“So, do you watch the fights at the arena?”  
“Not any more. It's never sat well with me,” Ulaz tapped the package again for Shiro to eat, but the man shrugged his shoulders in response. “How come? I thought it was a big deal and all that?”  
“Oh, it's certainly one of the Galra's favourite things, just as a healer, you can imagine I have some qualms about the harm that comes to those participating. I healed you after your battle with Champion. That took a while even with the help I had.”  
“I must have looked pretty bad.”  
“You did. I was also on a time limit as well, which was why it wasn't my best work.” He watched Shiro nod his head, clearly trying to recall it; his face dropped when he did. “I called out the Commander back then for his actions. I'm sorry that I've not been able to do more.” He watched Shiro pick up the package and open the top. “You really do take care of me, don't you?” He flopped into Ulaz's side and stared up at him, “I think I'd have given up a lot sooner. Don't get me wrong, I still want to give up most days. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you keep me going – you make this captivity a lot more bearable.”  
“That's an incredibly kind thing to say, Shiro. But please, don't put yourself down. You are amazingly strong in your own right. I know you may not believe it, but you are.” Ulaz patted his arm, noting a few odd glances the two were getting from passers-by. “Thanks. It's nice you think so.” Shiro shifted his head a little and finally started to eat.

 

-

 

Ulaz's ears pricked again. He paused Shiro and turned around, peering back down the walkway. “You've stopped us about four times since we left the fountain. Do you think we have a follower?”  
“I think we do,” Ulaz's claws tensed over Shiro's shoulder, “and I have a sneaking suspicion it's because Sendak hasn't re-collared you yet.”  
“Great.”  
“Don't worry, you're safe with me.” He flicked his gaze about, noting the narrow corridors between the apartment blocks. “Stay close and do exactly what I say, understand?” He hushed as he ushered Shiro down one of the vacant corridors.

 

As they walked, Ulaz could definitely hear someone behind them. “Keep your eyes forward and turn left.” He whispered, patting Shiro's shoulder carefully. As they turned, Ulaz pointed in front. “Quietly make your way up there and turn right. There will be some crates. Hide yourself behind them and leave the rest to me.” Shiro nodded in response and quickened his pace. He cast one last look at Ulaz, and ducked into the recess. Ulaz let out a long sigh and came to a stand, listening as the faint footfalls became louder. He turned on his heel, awaiting to see what degenerate turned up. He was still tired, but was more than capable of fighting. Besides, he had a few things to work through and it wasn't like he could take it out on Sendak.

 

“I was hoping you wouldn't be this smart.”  
“You're not going to deny stalking us then?”  
“No point. Where is it?”  
“ _It_ belongs to Commander Sendak.” _That hopefully will scare him off._  
“Then he should've collared it. Besides, doesn't seem to be bothering you.” The Galra – this one a few inches taller but much stockier, stepped a few paces forward. Ulaz folded his arms over his chest as he gave him a once over. “You think intimidating me will just make me hand it over?”  
“I'd rather not fight someone who's so meek-looking. Save yourself the hassle, I'll only be about half a varga.”  
“No. Get out of my sight.”  
“Not even for some GAC?” The Galra clicked his tongue as Ulaz stepped forwards, cracking his knuckles. “Well, can't fault me for being friendly.” He clasped both sides of his hips, Ulaz watching intently as he drew two small daggers.

 

Shiro peered out from around the side of the crate as he heard a struggle. He bit his lip and clenched his fists tight, ready to make a run to help Ulaz. Suddenly, a large body rolled into view at the entrance to the corridor. He squinted; it wasn't Ulaz. He heard something clatter from around the corner and watched as he slowly stepped into view, lifting the large Galra up by the top of his armour. Shiro couldn't hear what he said, but considering how quickly the Galra scurried away once Ulaz dropped him, it must have been enough to spook him. Ulaz watched him leave, and after a few dobosh's motioned for him to come out. Shiro ran, body tense with worry as he pushed Ulaz out into the light, checking him for any wounds.

 

“I'm fine, Shiro.”  
“He was massive, I just want to check.”  
“I promise you I'm quite fine. I know how to handle myself.” Ulaz ruffled his hair. “I do appreciate the concern, but I've been in worse bouts before.” Shiro looked up at his face, back to the calm one he knew. “Still, I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you, especially if I could do something to stop it.”  
“Thank you, Shiro.” He felt Ulaz smooth his hand through his hair, then rub his fingers alongside his cheek. He leaned into the touch, offering a tender look upwards. “I should be thanking you again for looking out for me.”  
“I'll let the Commander know about the incident – but we should also head back.” Ulaz's features hardened slightly as he ushered Shiro with him down the dimly lit corridors.

 

-

 

Sendak's ears pricked as he looked up from his communicator. “I was going to contact you. Where've you been?”  
“Please accept my apologies, Commander.” Ulaz bowed, crossing his arm over his chest. “We've had an incident earlier, hence our lateness.”  
“What type of 'incident'?” Sendak pushed himself from the wall and stalked over, noting his slave glance down quickly to the floor. “What did he do?”  
“He didn't do anything. We had someone following us for a while. About a varga ago, I managed to waylay him until he pulled two of these out on me,” Ulaz reached around and pulled out a small dagger. “I don't know if this means anything to you?”  
“It doesn't.” Sendak took it in his hands, brow creased as he studied it. “If anything it's new – not particularly good quality.” He handed it back to Ulaz. “I see you are unharmed.”  
“Of course, Commander. Shiro did exactly what I asked of him, and is also unharmed. However, this officer, and I am guessing as much because of their uniform, was looking to harm Shiro.” Ulaz placed a hand on top of his shoulder. “He attempted to bribe me even after learning he was yours.” Ulaz's gaze narrowed and Sendak noted his claws tightened on the slave's shoulder. “I'm very pleased you took care of him in my stead. I apologise for putting you in such a dangerous situation. Has he thanked you?”  
“I have, Commander.” The slave offered him a small bow as well, “I am incredibly grateful Officer Ulaz protected me.”

 

“Look up.” Sendak ordered. Shiro obeyed automatically as he felt the prosthetic claws of the gauntlet press into the underside of his chin. He watched Sendak stare at him, letting his face drop when he was content. “I presume he was well-behaved?”  
“A minor issue, but it was **only** minor. You seem a bit on edge, Commander, are you alright?” Shiro appreciated Ulaz stressing it was just minor. “Not particularly, I just want to get back.” Shiro felt a firm hand around his arm and moved towards Sendak, his stomach sinking in trepidation as he stared back at Ulaz. “Are we leaving now, Commander?”  
“Yes.”  
“Goodbye, Officer Ulaz. Thank you for looking after me last night.” Shiro bowed his head, and let his gaze linger for as long as he could as Sendak led him away.

 

-

 

Shiro tensed as he felt clawed hands push the fabric up around his hips, smoothing the skin in small circles as he stood at the kitchen counter. “I'm just waiting for it to boil, I'm sorry-” He stifled a hiss as the bruises were pressed. “I missed you last night,” Sendak purred low into his ear, “and work as been terribly taxing.”  
“Was it him?”  
“It was.” Shiro felt a knee pressed firmly between his legs. His body still ached from last night, he couldn't cope again. “Are you scared?”  
“I...I don't want to needlessly anger you, that's all.” Shiro gripped the sides as he felt the pressure increase and his feet leave the floor. He felt his groin press against the cold metal of Sendak's boots and wrapped his legs around his thigh to lever himself up.

 

“You know I had to put you in your place.” He felt the hot breath ghost against his neck. “I know.”  
“However, as I said last night to you, you did please me. For being such a good boy, I'll reward you tonight. You can even pick.” Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat and tilted his head back to look up at Sendak. “You'll let me?”  
“Of course.”  
“Then...if it's not too much trouble, would you mind teaching me Galran?” He bit his lip as he felt the claws leave his hips. Sendak picked him up under his arms and sat him against the counter top, almost at eye-level. “I've wanted to learn for a while. After last night, well, I guess now would be a good time. If you want to reform me, I guess I need to know as much as I can about you. It means if need be I can study up on things you talk about, instead of needing to pester you or anyone else.” _It could also allow us some independence_.

 

Sendak considered him, lacing his claws through the dark hair. It was something he was going to sort eventually, but he would concede that the slave asking had made him a little prouder. “You understand I will be strict?”  
“Yes, Commander.”  
“I do not appreciate laziness either.”  
“I'm rather studious, and swear I'll use as much as my free time as you allow to dedicate to my studies.” The slave lowered his head in submission, and Sendak massaged his claws into the scalp. “Then I expect you to keep your word. Perhaps,” he lifted the slave's head up by his hair, leaning in close, “there is some hope for you, my aggressive little monster.” Sendak gave him a small lick over his forehead, smoothing his prosthetic claws over the bare thigh. “Shall we start a little later?” He purred, pulling the slave into his chest. He heard a soft squeak, and presumed that was a reply of agreement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the Ulaz and Shiro scene at the start about three times, which was another reason why it's taken a long time to write. In the first two, it was a lot more stand-offish from Shiro's point of view, which would make sense. It's just after about three pages of stand-off it didn't really go anywhere, so I changed it to what we have above. Admittedly in those versions, Ulaz never revealed his scars to Shiro, and even in one version he got angry, which I think would have been too detrimental to the relationship and trying to re-establish it. 
> 
> I also wanted to make a threat on the no collar thing as well, but I do somewhat like having Ulaz's strength be a mystery to Shiro. We also nearly had the first sexy Uliro scene, but I decided to not go there /just yet/. It's down to the fact Shiro's delicate again right now, and also Ulaz would be taking advantage or it could be construed he is. I do find as I write them both, their relationship is something I'm becoming so fond of, but also it's just so intense between the two of them because of the situation they're in. If this fic wasn't going the way it was, I'd have it as end game and Shiro go off to the Blades, but I may look at doing that at a later point as a different story. I am a sucker for Blades!Shiro. 
> 
> I'm also looking at doing a time skip of a few phoebs to move us forward for chapter 28. The next chapter I don't imagine will be very "bad" either, but that's again because of what I've got coming up for later ones (such as the gladiator fights and the night before them, they are going to be REALLY rough chapters from how they're initially planned).
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope to see you next chapter :)


	28. Perceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...was supposed to be nice. Some bits are...some...aren't. There's some angst and violence NOT towards Shiro for once (?!?!?) someone finally fucked off Kaleska. The end is going to be a bit gory but idk, I don't personally think it's that bad, but it's painful.
> 
> Otherwise! You get some angst and some shendak that gets a bit rude and also a bit abusive because whelp of course it does, some good gladiator time and Shiro talking to Sendak in Galran! All Galran talking time will be bolded entirely for ease, and only between Galran characters. If it's in regular text it's just the translators on. I had a lot of fun researching for this chapter. Haxus makes a brief appearance...oh, I guess there's some /slight/ Uliro goodness nestled in near the start.
> 
> I did timeskip 2 phoebs to get here, and this chapter is just various events that take place over almost a phoeb - so p much it's about 1 1/2 months. Annoyingly I forgot Hepta's birthday :/ but never mind.
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos! It's all been very lovely!

Ulaz placed the long needle down on the table, biting his claws anxiously at Shiro's limp form in the chair. He carefully detached the arm restraints and unfastened the brace around his neck. It had been a lot harder to do, because it turned out the human brain was considerably more complex then he initially realised. He couldn't justify requesting the delicate precision instruments he'd desperately needed for the rationale he'd given – it'd spark too many questions that he couldn't afford being asked. He'd had to heavily improvise with what he could access, and even then, as he checked Shiro's pulse, he was terrified he'd messed the whole process up. The longer Shiro stayed like this, the worse the outlook was. The man had screeched his lungs hoarse during the ordeal, and as he stroked the wet trails down the sides of his cheeks, Ulaz felt it would be another session in his apartment soon. Thace would be upset.

 

Sniffing, he finished unfastening Shiro and eased the dead weight out of the chair. He needed to readjust how he carried him, but when he finally did lift the body, he carried it with the same care you would a newborn kit. He placed him down on the table, smoothing the hair stuck to his face away. “I'm so sorry.” He murmured, stroking his cheek and giving his forehead a small lick. “Please, wake up soon.” He pressed his fingers against his neck, relieved there was still a pulse even though he checked moments before. He quickly attached as many monitors and what drips he could, again unsure how long he'd be out for. He was certain the process had worked; but he wasn't certain at what _cost_. He knew he had to fabricate a report for the basis he'd come in on, even though the event itself was true, but he couldn't concentrate.

 

Ulaz scratched the back of his neck as he checked the time again. It'd only been five dobosh's since he'd last looked, but it felt like two vargas had passed. He snarled, slamming the communicator down on the side as he stalked around the equipment. He needed to busy himself with something. The needles. They needed disposing of. Could he do it here? No, bad idea. It could be checked if mistakes were made, and they could be discovered and ran to see who they were used on. He took the collection of needles, which had mounted up quickly with the three places he'd had to inject at the same time. At least he'd found a way to circumvent needing three hands. He was sure he had something in his bag for this instance – wait, yes, he did. Dropping the collection next to the display, Ulaz fumbled around inside his bag for the container he was after, and hurriedly put them all inside. If anyone entered, though it was highly unlikely they would, he couldn't be caught doing this.

 

Next thing was to collect up the bottles he'd used. Out of the collection he brought with him, he only had three left which wasn't a good sign either. He prayed he'd got the dosage right and not used too much, or somehow he may've used too little? No, no he couldn't have miscalculated that far out. He'd spent the last two phoebs making sure that it would be perfect. He'd managed to catch up with Shiro twice a movement since he was teaching him one of the human languages to make translating easier, but in that time, Ulaz had been able to do small medical checks and talk him through what he needed to do. He stored the empty bottles away and picked up the communicator. This time only seven dobosh's had passed. He needed a smoke.

 

It helped to somewhat ease his anxieties, but Ulaz's mind still buzzed with worry. He'd manage to waste another twenty dobosh's, but that wasn't a positive thing either. He paced again back over to the still body, looking even paler then usual. He pressed his claws against his bare neck. There was a pulse, of course there was, the machine would have alerted him to a lack of one. The vitals were all fine as well. Everything seemed _correct,_ but why wasn't he _conscious_? He rested against the table, feeling his palms sweat in the gloves. He had to take them off again, it felt disgusting. Ulaz's face twisted in revulsion as the material stuck to his fingers. He growled in frustration as each snapped off and he dropped them beside Shiro's body, wiping his hands in his bodysuit. Maybe if he poked him? Ulaz prodded Shiro's exposed skin, his hands, his cheeks and nose. “Wake up, Shiro. Come on, wake up, _please_.” He pulled his hand away, uncertain what he was doing. It wouldn't work. He tried again, jabbing and poking harder. He ordered Shiro to wake up, he pleaded, he begged. He slammed his fist against the table in frustration as the machine continued to show his vitals and functions were normal.

 

Was it something he missed? He pelted over to his bag, pulling out one of the bottles and reading it again for the umpteenth time. His eyes widened and he let out a guttural snarl, pushing the bottle back in. He was an idiot, stupid, a dreck. He leaned against the table, gazing down at Shiro. He choked out a laugh, “oh Shiro, you'd laugh if you knew how stupid I'd been. I missed a bit from the bottle. It said some species could be out for up to a varga and a half. You're just knocked out. I didn't fry your brain.” He clasped his human hand in both of his. “I'm so sorry I've stolen this time from you – for putting you through this all.” His voice cracked as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. The monitors continued to show all vital signs were normal. He could hear Shiro breathing.

 

Shiro stirred groggily, bringing his hand to his head. It felt like someone had dropped both Sendak and Kaleska on top of his face at the same time, and his mouth tasted of something between blood and jalapeños. He cracked open his eyes to a light that felt as intense as headlights on a dark and foggy night. He flinched away, rolling on to his side as he brought his hands up to shield his sensitive eyes. “W-Where am I?” His voice came out rough and cracked. “S-Shiro?!” Shiro's pupils moved as purple blur came at him, and he was hoisted up into the air like a rag doll and pressed against metal. “You're finally awake.”  
“Y-Yeah.”  
“Can you tell me your full name?”  
“Takashi Shirogane.”  
“How old are you?”  
“Twenty-four.”  
“What planet were you born on?”  
“Earth. What?”  
“Just answer them, then I'll explain. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”  
“I...” Shiro tensed as he narrowed his eyes, trying to focus through the pain. “I was training. Ulaz-” Shiro pulled away, looking at the face, “you- came to get me. I was hurt, you wanted to check it out. We came to...here, you healed me but needed to check my memories?”  
“That's perfect, Shiro.”  
“Sorry, where am I again?”  
“These are the labs where I work at the moment,” Ulaz sat Shiro down and handed him a drink, a small straw poking through the top of the pouch. Shiro watched him as he sipped it slowly.

 

“I...woke up and you hugged me?”  
“Yes, you were out for longer then I expected. The machine's always been quite taxing on you. Do you remember who hurt you in the arena?”  
“It was...Champion.” Shiro crushed the pouch between his hand. “I'm going to kill him.” He spat, venom lacing every word. “Yes, you are. You promised the Commander.”  
“Yeah.” Shiro nodded slowly, tightening his grasp on the pouch until his fingers pierced the material, the contents leaking out. The two watched it drip onto the boots until Shiro set the punctured pouch to the side, licking the liquid from his fingers. He caught Ulaz watching him, and cast him a provocative look as he inserted two in his mouth. He watched the tips of Ulaz's ears twitch and he quickly turned on his heel. Shiro grabbed his wrist with his human hand, gaze intent.

 

“I-I should probably get you back to the Commander-”  
“Or, how about we spend a little more time here? I really don't _feel_ so good.” Shiro was still in actual pain, but there was also something he _needed right now_. He took Ulaz's other wrist in his hand and pulled him back towards him, locking his legs around the back of his thighs. “Shiro! We can't here.” Ulaz hissed, nodding towards the door. Shiro grunted in response as he brought his arms around Ulaz's waist. All Galra had small waists for their body sizes, but he was having this _now_. He snuggled his face in just below the armour and let his eyes fall closed. “Well moving hurts, you're just here to help lift me.”  
“You've attached yourself to me like a...limpet.” Ulaz smoothed his back affectionately, even if he was a little exasperated. “At least you didn't add Earth in front of it. Before you say it, I know there's the Ubliki, M'inek, and Puigian limpets, but they don't do the exact same things.”  
“I recall your scolding.” Shiro looked up to Ulaz and unlocked his legs slowly.

 

“Can you come here?”  
“If you want something, come up here,” there was a subtle grin on his face and Shiro groaned in frustration. He unattached his arms and with great difficulty, grabbed at Ulaz's armour for any type of purchase. Like all Galra armour made ever, it seemed, it rejected his fingers. He grabbed the black material that sat around Ulaz's hips with both hands, and without missing a beat, slid his fingers inside against the bodysuit. As predicted, Ulaz jerked down and Shiro grabbed him by the collar of the armour, pulling him down on top of him. “The fact you don't _stop_ me from doing that when you can says you don't mind this.” Shiro brushed his fingers over Ulaz's cheek, one arm splayed over his head. “I don't want to accidentally injure you.”  
“I know, but I'm not all totally squishy.” He watched Ulaz offer him a playful grin. “I suppose,” he muttered, “ _this bit_ isn't very 'squishy'.” He pressed his palm over Shiro's abdomen, who could only make a satisfied rumble in his throat at the _warmth_ of his hands. “I bet you can't find anywhere that's squishy at all.” Shiro challenged, cocking an eyebrow. Ulaz shrugged his shoulders, and with no warning, slid from the table and pulled Shiro's leg up against his body. “I'd hazard a guess that this thigh is in fact, squishy. Especially,” Shiro watched the claws point at the inner thigh and swallowed, “since if I do this,” he _very_ gently squeezed the skin together on the inside of his leg, Shiro making a pathetic squeak, “you make noise.”  
“ _Fuck_.” Shiro drew his legs back and rolled to the side, swiping his hand over the skin that felt a bit too warm right now. “Are you okay?”  
“I am...I am...very okay.” Shiro brought his hand to his mouth, biting the side of his finger. _Stupid body, stupid sensitive skin, stupid Galra not letting me wear fucking trousers or underwear._ _We can't get a fucking hard-on here._

 

Ulaz watched as Shiro curled in on himself, grumbling and hissing and shaking his head. He settled down on the side of the table, and pulled him up. “Did I touch a delicate bit?”  
“Yes.” His face had filled with colour again, but just his face. Ulaz eased the finger from his mouth and brought him in, giving his lips a small lick. Those grey eyes watched his own, before returning the gesture. He could feel Shiro's warm breath and swallowed the lump climbing up his throat. They really shouldn't. _Really_ shouldn't.

 

It didn't matter who started the kiss at this point; either one of them was going to do it. Shiro moved himself to sit in Ulaz's lap, the Galra helping him like always. Shiro's fingers dug for the armour clasps, and he growled into the kiss when he couldn't find them. Ulaz, however, was kneading the exposed skin at the sides of his hips, making circle patterns with both thumbs. Shiro had to break it first, letting his body flop forward into his chest as he made whispered gasps. Ulaz nuzzled into him, slowly drawing his fingers around to his back. He just made patterns and sometimes when Shiro allowed, he'd squeeze certain places like his thigh. Shiro arched his back and leaned up to bring Ulaz back into another kiss. He deepened it as thoroughly as he could, and Ulaz allowed him to explore as much as he pleased. Ulaz carefully brought them both down to the table, rolling Shiro to his side and feeling Ulaz's hand rest again on his hip bone. “I'd rather be going back to yours,” Shiro whispered, running a finger over Ulaz's lips. He didn't reply, but the tightened grip and cuddle was all he needed as an answer. “We really need to get you back.”  
“I know.” Shiro pushed himself up, combing his fingers through his hair.

 

-

 

“Do you think it's off?”  
“I think so? Ulaz, would you ask him what he hears?” Haxus lifted his eyes from the data pad, hearing words that were not Galran come from his lips. That at least meant his translator wasn't working as well. He had to admit, he was surprised how much had changed about the slave again. Having said that, he'd changed quite a bit from being in charge of the ship for a few phoebs now. He was certainly enjoying himself, but it didn't feel the same without the Commander there, and he was missing his normal terminal on the bridge. Mostly, he missed Sendak, and was happy they would get to catch up later. By that, he meant eat his mentor out; it'd been _ages_.

 

“Shiro's said you – we – all sound like we've got sand and gravel stuck in our throats.”  
“Then that's probably about right.” Haxus sighed and placed the pad to the side as he stretched. “If you would allow, Commander, I need to borrow Ulaz for a few vargas.”  
“Of course,” Sendak rose from his chair and brought Haxus in close. “Thank you as always.”  
“It's always my pleasure, Commander. I'll see you later.”  
“You will,” Sendak gave his cheek a small lick, and Haxus returned it. Now, they had prisoners to check, and Ulaz was required to assist their temporary medical officer, who was just a _bit_ awful at their job. As they bade farewell to the two, Haxus turned to Ulaz. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. Are you still grumpy?”  
“As in am I grumpy now, or am I still going to be annoyed when you use half the quintessence?”  
“I really have fucking missed you.” Haxus patted Ulaz's arm, stalking away until he heard Ulaz jog to catch up.

 

Sendak settled a little more comfortably in his chair, watching his slave trace his finger over the display as he read his notes with a deep frown, mouthing out the shapes of the words. They were sat in his office to make it seem more formal; more like a test. Sendak checked his communicator for any messages and pushed the glass of water towards the slave. **“Drink that before you speak.”** His lips tugged upwards at how sharply he looked up, clutching at his chest. He scowled at Sendak, then noticed the water. He composed himself again and answered in his strange husky tone. Human speak was odd to listen to, because he'd caught parts of his and Ulaz's conversations before, but even though his voice was similar, the words sounded more melodic and his lips moved differently.

 

Shiro was finally content he'd read enough of his notes and could hold another small conversation. This reminded him of when he used to go to a special cram school in the evenings to study and prepare for his Garrison exams. His mother would still be home by the time he got back, but getting ready to work her night shift at the local convenience store. One particular night he recalled after getting in, was her calling him to the table for unagi donburi. He smiled to himself, remembering how excited he was she'd made one of his dad's favourite meals again. He took the glass and chugged it back, before looking up to Sendak.

 

“ **I'm sorry, Commander Sendak.”  
** “ **You did not lie you were quite studious.”  
** “ **I said I...like to read.”** Shiro was still uncertain what 'study' was in Galran. Sendak shifted and rested his hands on the desk. **“So, slave, lets start with some basic questions. What is your name?”  
** “ **I am called Takas...hi Shirogane, but call me Shiro.”** Shiro reached for the water again as he coughed. His full name was hard to say in Galran because of the harshness against his throat, but it was getting the inflection and movements right. He'd not managed to say his name perfect, and he knew Sendak was going to make sure he felt every little mistake later. The Galra taught through pain, which was about right for them. **“So you are Takashi Shirogane?”** Sendak was offering him another go, which was rare. He said it again, Shiro copying every mouth movement, and Sendak motioned for him to try once more. **“Yes, I am called Takashi Shirogane.”** He swallowed, and Sendak gave a curt nod. **“Where were you born?”  
** “ **I was born in Chichibu Hospital, Japan.”  
** “ **Where is that?”  
**“ **Earth,”** Shiro appreciated the short answer he could offer. He wanted to say more, but he found certain words were hard to translate over because of the range he needed. He'd asked both Ulaz and Sendak to try and assist him, and even they'd struggled at first. Ulaz had been kind enough to write out how to say it phonetically, at least.

 

“ **How old are you?”  
** “ **I am twenty-four deca-phoebs old.”  
** “ **I'll grant you that since Earth-years is a pain to say right now for you. You understand the difference between an Earth-year and deca-phoeb?”  
** “ **Yes, Commander Sendak. Deca-phoebs are two...”** he paused, quickly flicking through his list and suddenly forgetting the word he needed. He couldn't think of it in English and now was apparently the best time for him to forget his mother tongue. **“times?”  
** “ **Yes! Two _times_ bigger than an Earth-year.”  
** “ **Are they _bigger_ or _longer_?” **Shiro found it hard to hear the difference. He shifted in his seat again under the eagle-eyed gaze. **“Bigger?”  
** “ **The word you want is longer.”  
** “ **I am sorry.”  
** “ **It matters not.”  
** “ **You seem...happy?”** He wanted to say relaxed, even subdued for once, but he didn't know those words yet. This isn't what they'd planned, but Sendak seemed distracted. **“I enjoy not having to rely on the translator, and your Galran is quite amusing to listen to.”  
** “ **Am I bad?”  
** “ **You're learning. You lean forward when you say certain things ever-so-slightly, and some words you pronounce are more penetrating or raucous then you need to make them. I don't expect you to master this language, however it's all a little endearing to listen to.”** Sendak cocked his head to the side, **“do you know what I said?”  
**“ **No, Commander Sendak. Sorry.”** Shiro bowed his head in apology, rubbing his eyes when he pulled back up. It was probably critiques of how he spoke. He'd do it though – if Shiro could speak two languages, he could manage a third.

 

Their conversation continued on for a while longer. Shiro had been keeping a journal where he'd write notes in Japanese or English, and then write it out properly in Galran. He had enough words to use to make long enough sentences, but not enough descriptive ones to really pad it out. That was probably a good thing – he was never keen on flowery language, and doubted the Commander was either. Regardless, he explained away a movements' worth of training quickly, and Sendak called it after that. “ **You preformed well, however you have a number of infractions.”  
**“ **Is it many?”** Shiro scratched at his wrist. **“Enough. Here, your throat must be painful.”** Sendak pulled out a small packet from his drawer and pushed it towards him. Shiro tried to read the name, working out it was just a brand one if anything. **“You may drink before we start, you have looked ready to fall asleep at any given moment.”** Sendak pulled himself up and stretched his limbs out.

 

After a few drinks and the throat sweet kicking in, Sendak lead Shiro to the cell. As Sendak chained his arms above his head, Shiro knew that _this_ part of the punishment was more for Sendak's enjoyment then anything else. Shiro lifted each foot obediently as he clamped the cuffs around his ankles, and let Sendak spread him wide. Shiro quietly hoped that the punishment would devolve into something a little more intimate afterwards. They'd both been so busy lately that neither of them had the energy for anything much, and he needed to retain his stamina for arena training. With it being quiet for a few quintants with the new prisoners being brought in, training was on hold. **“We will move on to the next word only when you say it correctly.”  
**“ **Yes, Commander Sendak.”** Shiro swallowed. He tensed when something cold clicked around his neck. **“You'll like this, it should prompt you.”** The purr made his gut stir – he had a good idea what was around his neck.

 

For every mistake Shiro made, the collar would give him a light jolt. For every increasing mistake, the collar's voltage would go up, and for every increase he could _feel_ himself get harder. It wasn't supposed to be sexual; it wasn't even supposed to be as painful as the normal punishments he received, but for all the guttural or harsh words and noises Sendak made behind him, it just seemed to really get to him. When they finally finished, which had drained Shiro of all his rational thought processes and the ability to speak coherently, he pushed his hips backwards, whining for Sendak. He heard a husky growl in his ear and felt fingers slip around the front, pressing against the leaking head. **“Someone is excited, hmm?”  
**“ **Please...in.”** Shiro pushed himself into the touch roughly, moving his hips as best he could. Sendak took his cock in his hand and moved around, pressing himself up against his body. Shiro moaned, grinding back against it; the movements stimulating the heat in his gut.

 

“ **Please,”** the slave's whines were wonderful, and tired as he may be, Sendak certainly could not leave him so needy. He glanced across the toned body; so much stronger then when they first met. He moved the braid aside and looked at the collar, then followed his spine down to the clan mark. It may have taken much longer then originally intended, but by the gods, to have him growling out his name in Sendak's mother tongue with so much want was...was... _well_. He unclipped the front of his body suit and crouched down, running the flat of his tongue from the slave's taint to his entrance, all the while letting him thrust into his enclosed hand. Sendak teased him for a few more ticks, before breaching the hole and making the slave scream out in pleasure. His knees buckled and Sendak heard the clink of chains catching as his body fell. He gave a deeper probe before rising and removing the cuffs.

 

“ **I have a better place in mind.”** He purred, slinging the tired body over his shoulder. **“It'll be much softer for you.”  
**“ **Thank you, Commander.”** The slave rubbed the back of his neck fur slowly, digging his nails in behind one of his ears and scratching. Sendak let out a contented purr and quickened his pace. He'd see to it they'd both be exhausted.

 

-

 

Shiro lounged on the sofa, one leg hanging off the side as he flicked through the tablet again. He'd finally worked out how to delete things, and was slowly moving his way through some old video files that no longer roused the same amusement or feelings they once did. It felt nice; like he was feeling lighter. The first one to go was the one he noticed when he first got the tablet. It was something he'd drunkenly sent to Adam a few movements after he'd broken it off. They'd been messaging on and off, and the conversation had somehow turned sexual in nature. Roll on three in the morning, and Shiro'd sent him a short video of him pleasing himself. Even though he'd deleted it not long after, it had once again resurfaced here. It didn't matter if Sendak had seen him do the same before, this was something he just didn't want him to know about. There were a few more dotted about in the files like that one; some he'd done, some Adam had, and a few others from guys he'd seen or flirted with in the distant past. That was then discounting all the pornography he'd ever watched, and was so far the ball-ache of a task he was undertaking.

 

 _At least it never accounted for the times you watched it more then once_. He paused on one video and tapped to play it. He skipped ahead a few times and paused at others to watch for a while, but in the end it left him feeling the same: bored. He deleted it and set the tablet down. He used to watch a lot of gentle or 'romantic' themed ones, but it was weird now how they just did...nothing at all. Was it down to his tastes changing with age, or was it from living in and with someone who had particularly violent mannerisms? He'd personally bet on the latter, but would be a liar if he denied the former wasn't without merit.

 

He and Adam once found some porn to try and watch together, but they both couldn't stop laughing at each others reactions, and in the end just decided to make a joke re-enactment. Adam was the better actor between them, but that wasn't saying much since they were both so fucking awful. He'd tried to 'seduce' Shiro by 'sexily' whipping off his belt, but as he did, it ended hitting him in the side of the dick and it _hurt_. Shiro sighed, pushing his fringe back as he scrolled up and looked back at the photos. He was sad that his thoughts of Adam were so fucked up now, and every time he thought it had passed and his mind would think of fond memories, it would sour automatically because of one hallucination. The problem was the things it _said_ weren't exactly lies. He closed his eyes. He needed a nap.

 

“ _Takashi, you can't just ignore what they told you!”_  
“ _I can and will. I'm going out, I'll be fine.” Shiro snapped as he pulled his jacket on and grabbed the goggles from the side. He ignored the deep pain in his legs and pushed himself towards the door, trying to stifle the grunts of pain back, until it finally overtook him and he dropped to the floor in agony. Adam rushed to his side, gently easing him to a more comfortable position. “I can't stand to see you like this. You're...you're not well, and I hate it. I don't want you to have this, I really don't, but you...you can't pretend it's not real. It is,” he laid beside Shiro, pushing the hair away from his face. “Life's not fair on you.” Adam pulled his glasses off and brushed his fingers lovingly against his cheek. Shiro closed his eyes and fell into the touch. “I just hope that if I can convince myself enough, it'll just stop.”_  
“ _I know.”_  
“ _Adam?”_  
“ _Yes?”_  
“ _I love you so much. I'm sorry.” He kissed Adam's hand, and his boyfriend leaned down to steal a tender kiss. “You've nothing to be sorry about. I love you so much, my buff space-nerd.” He kissed Shiro again, the two sharing a soft laugh together. “Do you want mac and cheese?”  
_“ _Yeah. Yeah, that'd be really nice.” Shiro offered Adam an apologetic smile, and Adam nuzzled him back._

 

Shiro awoke on the floor, the tablet sat a few centimetres away. He groaned and pulled it over, turning the thing off. That was a bittersweet dream. He groaned again and pushed himself up from the floor, smoothing out his body suit. Sendak would probably be back soon and he needed to sort some things out.

 

-

 

“ **What're you reading?”  
** “ **Officer Hepta let me borrow this before he went away.”** Shiro presented the book to Sendak, who gave it a puzzled look. **“These are old stories you tell kits. I recall reading this one to my son – he was very fond of it.”** Sendak prodded his claw at the title of one story. **“You used to bother _reading_?” **Shiro submitted automatically at the warning snarl from Sendak. **“I may not have been the best parent, but I still _cared,_ slave.”  
** “ **I'm sorry, it was rude.”  
** “ **It was,”** Sendak scowled at him as Shiro set it down, staring at the floor. **“I do not want to hear anything like that from your mouth again. Is that understood?”  
**“ **Yes, Commander.”** Shiro bowed his head and took himself out of the room – he knew where he'd be sleeping tonight for that remark.

 

It was a few vargas later that he heard the door to the cell open. Shiro could feel Sendak's presence enter the room, and then he heard the door close behind him. The metal boots were jabbed between his ribs and Shiro rolled over automatically to see Sendak's red eye burning in the low light. **“I'm sorry again, Commander.”  
**“ **Shut up and sit.”** He commanded. Shiro did as he was told, back rigid against the wall, as he watched Sendak place the book beside him. Shiro was sure he'd been drinking.

 

“ **The Trials of Kuron were his favourite stories.”** Sendak rested his arm on his knee as he stared at the floor, gauntlet leisurely ghosting the ground. **“I don't know how many times Gnov and I read them to him, but he would never tire. When he could read, well it made our lives considerably easier. If, and I say this with absolute seriousness, you enjoy the one you read in this, you may read the book I keep in storage. But if I do, you will _never_ speak so out of turn like that again. Do we have an understanding?” **To make good on his threat, he activated the gauntlet's claws and dug them deep into the slave's skin, the fur around his neck puffed up and canines bared. The slave howled and drew in on himself as Sendak dropped him. **“I...yes.”  
**“ **Good.”** Sendak took his leave, locking the door behind him.

 

-

 

Shiro didn't know how many quintants' it'd been before he saw Sendak again. He knew at this point all he could manage was cracked gasps and sharp whines when the Commander entered and picked him up under one arm. “Have you learned your lesson?” _The translator's back online._ Shiro just about managed to nod his head, a raspy breath his only way to respond. “Good boy.” He carried Shiro through the quarters and placed him down on the sofa, opening a small medkit and applying some gel to the burns; now blistered and raw. “It's a good thing they didn't get infected, isn't it?” Shiro nodded his head again, not meeting Sendak's gaze. He didn't flinch or squeak at the pain, that would only frustrate him further.

 

Once he was done, he pushed down Shiro's robe, checking the skin for anything he missed. Seemingly content, he hoisted him up again and took him to the bathroom. Water was already drawn, meaning he'd not just randomly decided to bring him out now. He set Shiro down and undressed himself, before scooping him up again and getting in, resting Shiro in his lap. “Do you understand why I punished you?” Shiro vigorously nodded, but regretted it as he felt dizzy afterwards. It was probably from the heat and the fast movements, likely not eating and drinking either. The pounding headache and internal pain didn't help. He let himself drop into Sendak's chest, taking in his scent. He'd missed the warmth, this tenderness he could show. He wanted to thank him; apologise again for being so thoughtless. He pawed into the fur and nuzzled his head into the crook of Sendak's neck. Hopefully this would signify his intentions.

 

-

 

“Oh, _Shiro_ , if you punch me again like that, I might just have to make you my husband!” The alien, a rather large half human, half dragon-like creature with pale leathery skin but ebony scales grinned, wiping the blood away from her mouth. Her sharp pupils narrowed into slits and flashed dangerously as she ran at full pelt towards him, talons outstretched and ready to tear again at his skin. He'd already caught her three times with the prosthetic, but like him; she desired a good fight, or was a masochist for pain. Even though the skin and scales were burned, she didn't care, and in that way she'd earned his respect.

 

“I couldn't have a wife who's so easy to predict!” He offered her a cocky smirk as he purposefully didn't activate his prosthetic, but came at her. She roared with laughter as she pushed herself from the ground, the vestigial wings opening enough to carry her just over his head. She couldn't fly, and neither could the other, but, as he ducked the tail that lashed down to swipe him across the face, she was defenceless in the air. He grabbed the tail and pulled back, before yanking it round and using the force to swing her to the floor. She hit the sands below with a thud, and as it started to settle, he pressed his foot down between her shoulder blades and ghosted the prosthetic at the back of her head.

 

She let out a long growl, before waving her taloned hand. “I'll just have to keep a single wife. Shame, you could've offered some useful genetics.”  
“Don't say that too loud, she might hear you.”  
“I already did! Azea, stop propositioning every dracking heathen who gives you a fight-boner!”  
“Well _excuse me, Princess_. Can't help it if the dracks get me all hot under the scales and offer me a fight. Look at these burns? Like Zintarix itself burned me.” She jabbed her talon at them, her wife just pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why do you persist in testing my patience?”  
“Why do you hate me enjoying a healthy lust for combat? Hey, c'mere.”  
“I'm not kissing you.”  
“ _Please_.”  
“No.” Her wife, who was in fact a princess by title, had slightly darker skin but brilliant gold scales. According to Banlu, these two were just the strongest slaves they'd taken. Shiro had never caught the name of the other, but this was normal for the two of them from what he'd seen over the past few movements since they arrived. They both belonged to Trugg, if that was a surprise at this point. Banlu was the one to storm over and pull them both apart, her sharp features all the pair needed to stop. Well, Azea spat at her feet while the princess gave her a respectful nod. “If Serkdra ca' be'ave, you ca' too.” Banlu grabbed Azea by the tail, since she refused to wear proper armour to begin with.

 

He moved over to Zestera, who offered him a curt nod. “Honestly surprised Sendak or Ranveig didn't try and get her.”  
“Were they a two-for-one deal?”  
“No, it's literally because Trugg has a thing for long-haired lady-aliens, and while they've been sat waiting for intelligence to come in, Trugg's been out conquering shit-worlds while they look for Voltron.”  
“What even is it? I've heard the name thrown around a bit.”  
“Some crazy-powerful weapon. It's made up of spaceships that look like Altean lions, whatever they looked like.”  
“Earth has lions but, what's an 'Altean'?”  
“Dead race of magic pointy-eared people.” Shiro's first question was whether or not they were elves. “Zarkon apparently killed them all ten thousand deca-phoebs ago, but he's obsessed at finding this one Lion.”  
“The Red one?”  
“No, Black. It's the biggest one according to Gnov; the leader one.”  
“So what's he going to do when he finds it?”  
“Beats me,” Zestera shrugged, “probably marry and fuck it, no idea.” Shiro snorted, nudging Zestera in the side. “You're disgusting.”  
“Coming from you.” Zestera offered a half-playful smile, before whistling. “Shiro, Rudiarius is stepping in.” They both watched as Kaleska stormed over and with ease, pulled the two scrapping gladiators off each other. “Oooh, they are _so_ being made to wear those fucking cuffs we had to.”  
“Well,” Shiro placed his hands on his hips, “at least it'll be good to watch.”

 

-

 

“ **Enter.”  
** “ **You are free?”  
** “ **Yes.”  
** “ **I finished reading what Officer Hepta loaned me.”  
** “ **Oh, that book. What about it?”** Sendak motioned for the slave to enter the room. He thanked him and sat in the seat opposite, looking worried, but seemed to steel himself. **“The story about Kuron, I enjoyed it. It's not his first is it?”  
** “ **No. His first was accepting his defeat since the victors refused to kill him – to humiliate him.”  
** “ **This one was was about his new friend, -”  
** “ **Ah that's the fourth one. You want me to bring you the book.”  
** “ **Only if you are happy doing so, Commander. It means a lot to you.” The slave** bowed his head low, clearing his throat. **“You are getting much better at not coughing when you speak. By the way, it's a phoeb and two movements until the matches will start up. I am happy for you to focus on training and sparring as opposed to Galran.”  
** “ **Thank you – but can I see nearer the time?”  
**“ **You can. Follow me.”** Sendak rose, and the slave moved quickly to his side.

 

Sendak halted him to stay in the atrium as he wandered off into the right wing. Shiro waited patiently until he returned half a varga later smoothing the dust from a very old-looking book. **“I will clean this up, as my apathy towards that room has become quite clear.”** Shiro remained silent as Sendak snapped at himself, placing the book down carefully on the table. He flopped into the sofa, closing his eye and exhaling loudly. Shiro moved forward, depositing himself in Sendak's lap. He cracked open his organic eye as he brought his hand up, smoothing his fingers through the darker streak of fur atop his head. With his prosthetic, he scratched behind the ear cautiously. He presumed it was okay when Sendak brought his arm around his waist, lazily stroking Shiro's side. **“Your attempt at soothing me has been noted.”  
**“ **Thank you, Commander.”**

 

-

 

“What's with all the spectators today?”  
“Not sure.” Zestera scrutinised the Galra sat watching carefully. More bets were being made then normal, because the bookies were up and down all over the place. Shiro stabbed his sword into the sand, leaning on it to ease his burning feet. He ignored the few whistles, but couldn't ignore the passing spank from one of the others as they gave him a playful smirk. Zestera snorted to his side. “Swear he eye-fucks you.”  
“I'm happy enough with that.” Shiro shot the other gladiator a flirtatious look, he tensed up, glancing at Rudiarius. “I bet if I could smell pheromones, you would fucking reek. Did you get a thorough fucking last night?” Zestera cocked an eyebrow at the laugh. “Morning?”  
“Mm.”  
“Fuck sake.” Zestera rolled their eyes and pushed some russet strands from their face. “Can't even get how you're in one fucking piece half the time.”  
“Used to it.”  
“Are human assholes able to fold space or something?” Zestera dodged out of the way of the poorly aimed punch to their side, chuckling a little. “Hey, it's starting.” Shiro pointed towards Rudiarius, Banlu and Azea; the latter two glaring daggers at each other.

 

“We gotta ourselves a nasty piece-a shit from the witch's labs. They don't want it, so ya getta murder it? Got it?” She thrust a sword each into their free hands and motioned for them to step forwards. Already, Azea was dragging Banlu about as she pleased, saying something he couldn't hear. He glanced over to the princess, who stood rigidly with her tail wrapped around her waist. “Serkdra?” She tilted her head, eyeing him up and down before turning back, “yes?”  
“You look worried.”  
“That's because I am,” she stalked over to stand with the two, “she can command, but not follow orders herself...being amenable or amicable isn't her.”  
“How did she come to lead then?”  
“Battle prowess and her circumstances of birth.” Serkdra pushed back her hair, “she was from a warring faction; their customs far more barbaric compared to our own.” The three watched as a creature prowled in. It had four legs, but a smaller set of 'arms' besides the front pair. It's eyes glowed violet-white and its large jaws opened to let out a sharp howl.

 

It ran and pounced at the pair, both trying to pull in opposite directions. It knocked Banlu down, Azea falling with her. Banlu _just_ managed to grab the jaws that tried to clamp down around her throat, while Azea's tail whipped the creature's hind leg. Its stature wasn't large, but it carried muscle under the thick slate skin. Serkdra swore under her breath as Azea finally managed to catch the creature's eye with her sword, but almost at the expense of Banlu getting mauled. “Work the fuck together!” Rudiarius bellowed, stalking around the side as she observed with her war axe primed. Even Champion, who was sat off to the side, seemed primed in case this went south.

 

It went south quickly. They were both able to right themselves, but the beast was quick on its feet. Since they kept trying to move in different directions, and with the lack of communication, their blows weren't striking where it was needed. On their own, they fought well, but together it was _awful_. The beast had lunged for Azea, but just before it struck her, she yanked Banlu around to take the blow. She'd let out an almighty shriek of pain as teeth and claws sunk into her flesh, the creature shredding and tearing at her body.

 

The roar Kaleska made reminded him of Zarkon's booming voice with how much it scared him. She called them to arms as she charged in, the war axe raised high. The beast bounded away from the mess it'd made, leaping across the floor of the arena and charging at anything it could. Zestera and Serkdra ran for to Banlu and Azea, while Shiro beelined for the others converging on the beast, which was presently attached to Kaleska's back. He pushed himself through the stitch in his side to leap up and grab the thick tail, activating the prosthetic hand. The smell was rancid and it shrieked again as it came down on top of his stomach, causing him to splutter and yelp out in pain. In a few ticks the weight was gone for him to see Kaleska grab the creature by the neck. She raised it's writhing body, eyes burning fierce and face distorted in rage as she crushed its windpipe without a second thought. He watched her, stunned, as she threw the body to the floor and grabbed the war axe. With a deadly swing, she cleaved it in half. Purple blood sprayed up and over the sand. She struck again. And again. And again. Shiro felt something wet splatter against his chest. It was purple.

 

He felt a presence behind him to find Champion stood watching intently. He glanced down at Shiro, then pointed to the mangled bone and flesh that Kaleska was still bringing the axe down into. “That'll be you during our fight.” Shiro scowled but avoided replying as he watched the creature's decapitated head roll to the side; the white eyes foggy. He flinched when the axe smashed it like you would a watermelon. It was almost comical. _Almost_. Kaleska rounded on the two behind her, her body coated in fresh blood. “Get Banlu to the medical wing, Champion. Shiro, tell the guard I need my _other_ whip. Go.” Champion shrugged and wandered away, while Shiro ran for the halls. He hoped the guard would know what he meant.

 

It turned out the guard did know, and seemed incredibly pleased she needed this whip. “Ahh, it's a shame I missed seeing the Beserker fight again,” he sighed as he set the heavy whip down, “so what did she do? Mash up this thing?” Shiro nodded as he looked at the whip. His face paled – he'd seen one like this design before – he'd _felt_ what this could do. “Is it still out in the sand?”  
“Y-Yeah.”  
“I'll come with you, and if she's using that...well, I might as well stay and watch. She is pissed!” The guard laughed as he moved from the office, handing Shiro the heavy whip. He eased the chains around his shoulder and kept a few paces behind the guard.

 

Shiro watched him rush off to the bloody mess in the sand, while he jogged over to Kaleska, easing the chains from his shoulder and handing her the handle. “Stand there.” Kaleska pointed to the side and Shiro moved over to stand with the others. Azea was restrained against the wall, even by the tail. She was fighting against the restraints even now, the vestigial wings trying to escape from the chains that bound them. He was grateful his enrolment had been so much later because judging from how he used to be, he wondered if this may've happened to him at some point. Sure he'd been whipped by Kaleska...but not like this – this was extreme for her. As the rest gathered with the group, Zestera stalked to Kaleska and whispered in her ear. It was likely about Banlu since she wasn't here. He wasn't sure if she was going to make it.

 

“Alright ya fucks,” her snarl was guttural, “if any of ya _believe_ for a single tick my word ain't _fuckin' absolute_ in this place, here is a reminder.” She cracked the whip against the ground, the metal tailed thongs lifting the sand. She drew it back and with one precise motion, struck it across Azea's back. Shiro winced at the primal shriek of agony as the metal mangled the scales. Kaleska dragged the metal back through the sand and repeated the motion again and again and again. Each shriek and screech became more and more laboured. Shiro's stomach churned in disgust as the blood ran down her back. _“If I say team work, ya work as a team,”_ Kaleska snarled, _“and_ _if ya think for a second that riskin' a fellow gladiator is a good idea, remember this._ ” Shiro swallowed as she dropped the bloodied whip to the floor and stormed over to the body. She turned to look at each of them in turn, before she locked her gaze with Champion. Grabbing what looked like something between a pair of giant pliers and scissors, she positioned them at the base of one of the wings. Serkdra pushed her way forward, “R-Rudiarius, p-please-”  
“ **No.** ” With all her force, she pressed the handles together. Shiro watched just like the others as it cut through scale and bone. In the back of his head, he could see why this was fair; it was a just punishment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually sure where I'm going yet for next chapter, but it'll come when I sit down and think about it a bit. I know where I need to get to, it's just things have to happen to get to that bit! Ahh, frustrating. Only a few chapters until fights though!!
> 
> Did enjoy writing some of the dialogue - Zarkon and the black lion earlier, and also describing alteans - for this chapter.
> 
> I chose Kuron because I refuse to accept the Galra are that lazy to steal a word for clone from another language and all that. Like how organisations call things 'op dolphin' or 'op insert-silly-name-here'. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed ^^ hope to hear from you all again!


	29. Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos! Glad you guys are still going with this fic!
> 
> There's plot this chapter, but otherwise see this as another porn chapter.
> 
> I have been both excited and dreading writing this, I have to admit, because after cock-blocking anything uliro for god knows how many chapters I tried to cock-block it again, so its been rewritten about three times because I want them to have the cutest and bestest time. Then it's juxtaposed by the Zarkon/Sendak. That is the polar opposite of the Uliro.
> 
> Enjoy the pornography. There's edgeplay, oral, sexual asphyxiation, rimming and finger-fucking as well as Sendak being a bit of a masochist. If I added all the sex tags to this fic it'd be ridiculous and spammy.

“If she's too strong, I can easily take her off your hands, Commander Trugg. Perhaps she needs someone with _actual_ strength as her master?” Ranveig leaned forward in his chair during the recess. Trugg gave him a derisive snort, looking him up and down. “You realise she will automatically consider you beneath her.”  
“I can change that.”  
“By doing what?” Sendak glared up from the report, “by dressing it up and just whoring it out because you're a lazy dreck?”  
“You mean earnin' me GAC. Remind me how much your whore earned you?”  
“He was there for punishment,” Sendak sniffed, “unlike you, I follow through on my threats.”  
“It was a shame I found out so late he was there,” Ranveig licked his lips, “'cause I would've had him more than once.”  
“Well,” Sendak slammed his gauntlet onto the table, “it's such a _shame_ that's the only time you ever will.” Ranveig let out a harsh laugh and wiped his eyes. “How torn up was he?” Sendak rose. “Oh, so he was damaged was he? Does he even feel anything any more?” Ranveig pulled himself up from his seat and sauntered towards Sendak, both had their canines bared.

 

“Sit down.” Both Commanders brought their heads up as Zarkon stepped back into the room, Haggar at his side like usual. They bowed, apologising for their insolence, but this hadn't been the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last either, that he had found them both squaring up to each other. A few phoebs' back, the two had roughed each other up before one of their meetings; Zarkon was displeased then, and was as frustrated now. “If you wish to fight like savages, I can let you fight in the arena. I'm sure two disgraced members of High Command will thoroughly excite the masses. It would be curious to see who would fare well in a fight against Champion.” Zarkon's voice cut through the tension in the air, and all those present knew the threat was real. He had once thrown a treacherous Commander who sought to end his life to the arena. They were weak and succumbed to the beasts that dwelt within those walls. He'd regaled the story to every new member of High Command as a warning, and so far, they had all remained loyal.

 

Gnov, Janka, and Ladnok returned, settling down quietly and offering a bow to their Emperor. “Our apologies, Sire, for returning late.” Janka bowed again, Zarkon glancing at him but not speaking. “Haggar brings promising news.” He deferred to her, and she rose from her seat. “The Komar is ready for field testing.” She brought up the map of the empire, some sections glowing red. “From the list of possible planets, and Commander Trugg's recent additions, these are what viable options I would like to discuss.” She looked around the table, noting Ranveig's expression. “Commander, you have a query?”  
“If you would, High Priestess, what is the purpose of the Komar?”  
“To drain a planet completely of its quintessence.” She gave him a disapproving frown; this information was readily available. He nodded, looking back at the map. “Would it not make mining planets pointless?”  
“It would mean that more resources could be put towards finding Voltron, Commander Ranveig. If you had read the report, you would understand this.” Her tone had him flinching under her gaze. He was a brazen dreck of a Galra, and couldn't wait to get hold of his gladiator for experimentation.

 

“The issue with using the Komar,” she continued, “is that we will need to move Central Command itself.” She watched as the others stared at her. Although it was a ship, it was almost unheard of for it to move due to its importance as the centre piece of the Empire. “Would your battle cruiser not be suitable, High Priestess?” Janka queried cautiously. “No. I require the Druids of the Four Directions to assist me in using it. My cruiser is not built to contain that much quintessence either.”  
“Would that mean that all quintessence shipments would come out of Central? Would they be refined here?”  
“There is a possibility of that. Why? Does it disrupt your supply chains and routes?”  
“N-No, of course not! It would just be something I need to consider. Please, I did not mean to anger you, High Priestess.” Janka bowed his head low to her. Haggar didn't particularly care.

 

“Regarding planets,” Gnov cut in, “I suggest ones close to Central Command. We don't know where the Red Lion or rebels are, and travelling too far out may leave us at a disadvantage if,” she glanced at Zarkon who gave her a curious look, “hypothetically, an attack was made against us or the system. Although I doubt the rebels would want to kill themselves that much, they have made suicide runs before.”  
“But that's because they don't have any structure,” Ladnok interjected, “let us not forget that cannon, either. The one that little dreck designed. On that basis, I agree with Commander Gnov.”  
“I think we should travel outwards. It's not like the rebels will know, really.” Trugg muttered as she pointed to a part of the map. “I think my recent conquest would be a great place to trial it.”  
“Trugg, you can't justify blowing up your slave's planet because they hurt you.”  
“Go fuck yourself you insufferable bastard! It's not even blowing it up, it's sucking out the quintessence.”

 

“Commanders!” Zarkon roared, glaring between Trugg and Ranveig. His eyes narrowed as he pulled out the black bayard, manipulating it to his will. He levelled the glowing points at Trugg and Ranveig in turn. “You are both grounded to Central for the next deca-phoeb.” They weren't stupid enough to protest it. “You are both being docked your salary for this phoeb as well.” He remained stood, stabbing the bayard into the table for emphasis. “Janka, Sendak? What are your positions?”

 

“I-I think it would be better to remain close by. There are too many lives on board to risk.” Janka tried to sound confident, but as usual it was not. Zarkon turned his attention to Sendak, his eyes focused on the map above them. “Commander?”  
“Is it possible to bring up last-known rebel locations and sectors found in, as well as where the fleet was found destroyed?” Zarkon nodded and motioned for Haggar to add this to the map. Some sections flashed up, quite a few close to some of their planet choices. “There's been two new attacks from that cannon,” Sendak glanced at Zarkon, who nodded again for Haggar to add the attacked ships locations on the map. Sendak checked his display and then the map again. “I have a theory about the cannon's range.” He muttered, rising from his chair and pointing at a blue marker. “If you look at the dates,” he brought his finger in a straight line down to a green marker, “you will see they are the same. There's nothing obstructing the line of fire. The other, there's two possible locations, however the distances are conflicting.” He paused as he looked at the marker where the fleet was destroyed. “We can't judge that since it was on the fringes.”  
“So what is your answer?”  
“I would remain closer to the system to avoid huge amounts of disruption. Multiple jumps will consume too much quintessence, however it's also a trial, so why expend so much energy when it either won't work,” he felt Haggar's glare on him, “and if it does, we have excess quintessence, as well as an efficient way to harvest it moving forward.” He settled back in his chair, staring at the map again. “Anywhere away from possible rebel forces. However if they do show up, at least we have the fighters, fleet, and cannon.”

 

“So why hide so close? We're not weak!” Ranveig spat. “It's a display of power. We should be out in the thick of it, showing them what we're capable of. It'd instil fear!”  
“And even more retribution.” Gnov leaned back in her seat. “It'd do all those things, yes, but until we get our hands on that cannon, do you _really_ think it wise to risk the command ship and the life of our Emperor?” She smirked, having caught Ranveig out. “I...see what you mean.” He conceded. “Then,” Zarkon started, watching the map condense down to the closest options to Central, “which out of these planets shall we pick? What is most abundant with life?”

 

The discussion carried on for another two vargas just to decide a planet, and then after that they had to come to an agreement on a timetable, but then they realised they'd have to have another meeting to check rebel activity nearer the time. Sendak hated meetings when it got like this, but he was at least pleased with himself today. “Commander Sendak, I require your presence.” Zarkon rose and motioned for him to follow. The others cast him a look that he was used to by this point. This was part of the reason Ranveig made such distasteful comments, because unlike the others, he was privy to more information because of his position. It was jealousy, at the end of the quintant. “Of course, Emperor Zarkon.” He rose, head held high, and followed briskly after the Emperor.

 

Of all the places, Sendak didn't imagine to find himself back at the Emperor's personal quarters, especially after earlier. “Permission to speak freely?”  
“Denied.” Zarkon growled as he stepped through the doors. Unsure what he had done, he followed his Emperor blindly inside. Zarkon moved to a chair and settled himself. “Here.” Sendak's ears twitched. He moved forwards, Zarkon's face unchanging as he spoke, “bend the knee.” Sendak dropped down to one knee at his Emperor's feet, awaiting the orders with baited breath. It was a rarity these days that he addressed him like this any more; only back when he was under Zarkon's tutelage. He felt clawed fingers press under his chin, and let them raise his head to lock eyes with the quintessence-fueled ones. “Who am I?”  
“You are my Emperor.”  
“What are you?”  
“I am your,” Sendak licked his lips, “loyal servant, your right-hand; ready to deal your judgement and wrath upon all enemies of the Empire.” He closed his eye when the hand moved to his cheek. “You still remember your place. This pleases me.”  
“How could I ever forget my rightful place?”

 

Zarkon stroked Sendak's cheek for a few dobosh's. “You will remain by my side until morning. The disorderly conduct of High Command has become bothersome, and it disappoints me that my most loyal and trusted Commander has fallen foul to such behaviours. Re-education is required.”  
“I understand, my Emperor.” Sendak opened his eye slowly. “You have half a varga to sort any business you need to, then prepare yourself for me.” Zarkon motioned for him to rise, and pointed for him to head to the bathroom. “Thank you, Emperor.” He crossed his arm across his chest, bowing again.

 

-

 

“Ulaz? Where's the Commander?”  
“He will be unavailable for the rest of the evening. You are to stay at,” he paused, shifting on his feet, “mine tonight.”  
“Why? I mean...” Ulaz pulled him away from the desk and moved from the hall. “He said you were to be collected, as he had not arranged a stay in there. That, and he doesn't trust the guards.” Ulaz finally clarified outside. “I don't want to say anything in ear shot, that's all.” Shiro nodded slowly. “I still don't understand about the Commander. He's never out this long.”  
“All he said is that him and the Emperor are in discussions for the evening and I was to collect you. I've had to cancel some plans tonight with a friend of mine.”  
“Well why not invite them over? If they're a friend of yours, they're probably nice, right?” Shiro fell into step with Ulaz as they headed out, content that he wasn't being led about any more with the damn leash. Ulaz pursed his lips, “I'd not considered that. I worry you'd feel left out a bit? We're quite close, that's all, and I rarely mix my work and private life.”  
“I can understand – and have noticed. Outside of work, I don't know much about your life.”  
“Well,” Ulaz offered him a small smile, “my life's been pretty dull.”  
“If you say so.” Shiro nudged his side. “Can't say I'm not excited to stay over at yours, though...I fucking stink even after a shower.”  
“You can wash up at mine, it's fine.” Ulaz ruffled his hair. “I need to get food...so do you mind coming shopping with me? There's a small place near mine I can pick something up.”  
“Can we have manchin again?” Shiro gave him a large grin, Ulaz sighing. “Of course.”

 

“Is that Commander Sendak's gladiator?” The cashier asked, tilting their head to the side. “Yes.”  
“It's so small and naked-looking.”  
“Humans seem to look like that,” Ulaz offered a half smile as Shiro packed the food into bags, before hoisting both from the counter. “So well-behaved, it's surprising. You'd think it'd just be destructive but here it is, quietly just _there_.”  
“They do have sentience; and had lives before we took them. Would you like to tell the cashier what you did before we took you?”  
“Yes, Officer Ulaz,” Shiro took a rigid stance, “I was a Lieutenant, fighter pilot, and spaceship pilot prior to my capture.”  
“Ahhh, no wonder it fights so well then. All the gladiators used to be warriors, I swear.”  
“They are, yes.” Ulaz paid and gave a curt nod to the cashier, before ushering Shiro out. “I'm sorry I had to talk about you like that.”  
“I know you have to do it because of social pressures, but at least you made me sound like I wasn't just a thing – an _it_.”  
“It's not desirable. You're your own person.” Ulaz took one of the bags, “can't expect my guest to carry the shopping.”  
“It's the least I could do for you. I want to do it.” Shiro gave him a soft look, and Ulaz wanted to kiss him right there.

 

Shiro could swear it seemed like nothing had moved since the last time he was here, and that was forever ago. He eyed the room suspiciously, Ulaz catching his gaze. “What's wrong?”  
“You don't stay here, do you?”  
“What makes you say that?”  
“Your answer's coy. It looks the same as the last time I was here. So unless you live at work, I'm hedging my bets that you stay elsewhere. Also,” he lifted the bag he carried, “you suddenly need to go shopping?” He offered a smile, “it's not a complaint, it's just an oddity.” He watched Ulaz place the bag down on the sofa, leaning against it. “My friend-”  
“is a bit more then that?”  
“Y-Yes.”  
“Are they just a 'friend'?” Shiro chuckled as Ulaz didn't know where to look, his ears twitching and he brought his hand up to his mouth. “Well, we're more than friends but not mates or anything. We'd like to be – but work and everything gets in the way.”  
“That's a shame,” Shiro rested his hand on Ulaz's arm. “Adam and I met as students at the Garrison, and started dating as soon as we graduated. We lived together on-site, and piloted together. It sucks that you and your almost-mate can't have that.”  
“T-Thank you.” Ulaz stroked Shiro's hand tenderly.

 

“Do they know about...this?”  
“They do; they're supportive. I'm the same with them,” Ulaz gazed at the wall. “I wouldn't lead you on or betray them, so please don't worry yourself.”  
“That's good – and thanks, for being honest. So, do I get to meet this mystery Galran?” He cocked an eyebrow and Ulaz snorted. “Perhaps one day. When I told him, he was quite adamant I enjoy this non-work time with you. He's demanding an update,” Shiro chuckled as Ulaz pinched the bridge of his nose. “Since we became more of 'a thing', as you would put it, you've been the only other person I've become this close with.” He watched Shiro open and close his mouth. “Did I say something wrong?”  
“N-No.” Shiro was on the back-foot now. “I just...I don't know. Fuck.” He put the bag he was holding down and reached for Ulaz's face. “Kiss me.”  
“Certainly,” Ulaz gave a warm chuckle as he brought himself down to brush his lips against Shiro's, who could only growl as he pulled Ulaz closer, running his tongue over his lips before pushing it in, both making content throaty noises. Ulaz lifted him gently, settling him on top of the sofa as he deepened it, pushing a hand through Shiro's thick hair. They pulled away, panting, a small string of saliva connecting them. “We still need food, and you need a bath.” Shiro groaned, letting his head roll backwards. “Why do you do this?”  
“Someone has to.” Ulaz licked Shiro's mouth, eyes heavy-lidded.

 

-

 

Sendak's jaw ached, along with the back of his head where the Emperor's claws dug in. His other hand lazily held the chain tied around Sendak's neck. “How many deca-phoebs has it been?” Zarkon drawled, pulling the chain taut as he came down Sendak's throat. “Don't waste a drop, Commander.” He added, watching Sendak choke and struggle to swallow. He let it go lax after a few ticks, watching as he pulled himself off Zarkon's cock and coughed into his hand. “Hundreds, my Emperor.”  
“Your last punishment,” Zarkon tugged the chain hard and Sendak came down, planting his hands either side of Zarkon's broad chest, “do you still regret your recklessness?”  
“I do, Sire.” Sendak bowed his head, Zarkon making a low rumble in his throat. He was content. “Continue pleasuring me, Commander.”

 

Sendak nodded, leaning down and digging his teeth into Zarkon's skin. He couldn't forget what his body enjoyed, because it had been drilled in so thoroughly over the thousands of deca-phoebs Zarkon was his mentor. It may have hurt at times, but he was no weakling - he had been hand-picked by the Emperor; he could see his worth and merit. He felt a hand tug at his ear, the claws digging in to the fur. Sendak groaned at the pain, biting harder into Zarkon's hip while he started to vigorously jerk Zarkon back to full hardness. His Emperor made a content bass growl in his throat, and Sendak felt a deep pride within himself.

 

“Sit over my hips.” Zarkon ordered, tugging the chain. Sendak moved obediently, spreading himself open for his gaze. “Are you that desperate to be filled?”  
“I will be eternally desperate to please you, my Emperor.” He arched his back at the probing fingers. “Is this how your slave reacts to you?”  
“Yes, Sire.”  
“Then my lessons were not for naught.” Zarkon let go of the chain to re-thread it between Sendak's thighs. He tugged it sharply up as he removed his fingers, letting the metal rub against Sendak's taint and entrance. The sharp growls from his Commander was pleasing. So content, so desperate. Zarkon pushed his fingers back in, holding Sendak's hip in place firmly. After his reawakening, he recalled few things outside of the Black Lion and Voltron, quintessence, and the late Empress. Sendak, then just a lowly officer of his Royal Guard, was dutiful in understanding his needs and met them without question or a required explanation. Zarkon found himself trusting this one the most as he went above and beyond the expectations of his position, and when he offered Sendak the mentorship, the officer was stunned to silence. He may have disappointed Zarkon at times, but his willingness and fervour to accept any punishment lined up for him kept him alive. He also wouldn't find anyone else so loyal or trusted. When they found the Lions, Zarkon would be accept Sendak was his Red Paladin and no other.

 

He wrapped the chain around his wrist as he pulled, Sendak's back arching out to the point he curled round so far, he needed to brace himself from falling. He choked out moans as Zarkon inserted another two fingers into his entrance, rubbing and pressing his thumb against the base of his taint. “You are so susceptive to me. Why?”  
“You are my Emperor, mentor, and friend. You have always been my inspiration – my desire and purpose to live,” Sendak snarled into Zarkon's thigh as he curled the fingers inside, “my life means nothing if not to serve you.”  
“Serve in what manner?” Zarkon pushed his fingers deeper and Sendak snarled out again. “In any way you deem appropriate. If my death would serve you, then I would gladly accept it, if you desired my body, then it would be yours for the taking, and if,” he swallowed, “you commanded it, I would personally see to the annihilation of every last creature in this universe.”  
“You talk like I am a god.” Zarkon coolly replied as he watched Sendak's body shudder. “That's because you are, my Emperor.” Zarkon let out a dark chuckle as he relaxed the chain.

 

-

 

“It's going to be too big, but you can wear this after your bath.” Ulaz motioned to the folded garment in his hand as Shiro washed up. “Ah, thank you. I was gonna say, this is the only thing I have.” He motioned to the armour he wore and the sole arm guard on the side. “Shall I rebraid your hair again tonight?”  
“I'd really like that, it's still hard to do it right. I get strands stuck in my fingers.” He set the pan on the rack to dry, and rubbed his hands into his thighs. “I have a hand towel.”  
“Habit, sorry.” Shiro grinned as he followed Ulaz to the bathroom. “There's a towel there and wash stuff there. It should be fine on your skin, but let me know if you get a burning feeling or a rash-”  
“It'll be fine, honestly. Before I could read, I could've washed myself with who knows what and not realised.” Shiro rubbed his arm, “thank you for the worry, it's...cute.”  
“Isn't that a word used to describe small animals and children?” Ulaz cocked an eyebrow. “Well, _usually_ , yeah, but it has different contextual uses.” Shiro scratched his chin, looking away awkwardly. “So, if I said your eyes looked 'cute', would that contextually make sense?”  
“It...can?”  
“Then your pupils are very cute.”  
“I...thanks?” Shiro offered him a confused look, and the two laughed. “Enjoy your bath.” Ulaz gave his forehead a small lick, and left Shiro to his own devices.

 

He headed through to the bedroom and gave the sheets a quick sniff. He couldn't remember the last time he'd changed them, which was probably an indicator he _should_. As he heard the water run, he settled down and stripped the bedding. He was content Shiro was taking a bath, because though his sense of smell wasn't as strong as Sendak's, he smelt of the Commander and it was jarring against Shiro's own scent, which was considerably less musky but frustratingly easy to pick up on. He didn't know if humans could pick up on scents like Galran's could, but there seemed to be no agreement in the medical studies he'd read – on a strictly _professional_ level – they could. Human sciences were strange, as some seemed to lean towards proving links to their animalistic beginnings while others tried to prove their differences as something above it. It was something he'd noted in early Galran sciences, but these days it was considered unimportant as a field of research.

 

He felt his communicator vibrate and pulled it out, dropping a pillowcase to the wayside.  
 _So how're you?  
_ Ulaz smiled at the message.  
 _Good – he's eaten something and seemed to enjoy my cooking  
_ _Well you do prepare some good sustenance. Did you save me any?  
_ _Why wouldn't I? I've enough for us both  
_ He laughed softly as he set it down, moving to grab some clean sheets from the small cupboard. He dumped them on the bed, and picked up the communicator again.  
 _This is why I love having you on Central. You spoil me far too much.  
_ _Well look at you, you're worth spoiling  
_ _No you are, my moon and stars. By the way, did you want me to get you arena tickets this time?  
_ _As the humans would say, you make me blush (their skin goes red apparently for a variety of arousal reasons). But yes – I'm suspecting it's going to be bad and I'd rather be on-site this time  
_ _I've watched him in training a few times – he's not bad with a sword but damn that arm. See why you're fond of him though. Enjoy yourself tonight – again I want the details and need to formally meet him!  
_ _I confess I haven't really watched him train or use the arm, but I should at some point. You'll have to use your best interrogation techniques then because you know what I'm going to be like – ah yes, he'd also like to meet you as well  
_ _Really? You told him?  
_ _Yes. He worked out I don't stay here. I haven't named you as requested  
_ _Thanks. Right, I should sleep. See you later – I miss your soft fuzz.  
_ Ulaz snorted as he placed down the communicator. He cocked his head when he heard it buzz and checked the messages again, only to swiftly put it down. _Thace!_ He couldn't help but laugh, checking the image again and feeling his chest pool with warmth. With that image in his mind, changing the sheets didn't take that long.

 

He gave his room a final sweep, making sure that his Marmora gear was placed high from Shiro's line of sight and reach. He may not know what it was, but it would be just one word to the wrong person and that would be it. He balled the sheets together and carried them from the bedroom through the apartment. His ears pricked as he passed the bathroom, hearing the water drain away. He should probably see if he had any extra blankets for later, thinking about it.

 

“What're you looking for?” He turned to see Shiro poke his head around the side of the door. “Just some extra blankets. You can sleep in here again tonight, I'll grab the sofa.”  
“But it's your bed and I'm shorter, so I can sleep there.”  
“Do I need to order you to sleep in here?”  
“You can try, but I might just defy that order.”  
“Then I'll make you submit,” Ulaz cocked an eyebrow as he tossed a pillow to Shiro, who caught it with ease. “I'm feeling we've had this conversation before.”  
“Similar. However,” he glanced up and down Shiro's body, “I know all your human weak points. Especially your inner thigh. That, and I'm just a _bit_ stronger then you.”  
“That remains to be seen. I think if I had more space and my prosthetic activated, it'd tip the scales in my favour.”  
“Is that some cockiness I detect?”  
“I'm just confident. You fight by using your opponent's strength against them.” Shiro sat on the bed, catching the other pillow Ulaz tossed him. “You're correct there, but do you think I'm not that strong?”  
“Honestly, you're probably a lot stronger then you let on. I'm still not a hundred percent as to what I can actually do.”  
“A mature assessment,” Ulaz slung the blanket over his shoulder and closed the cupboard.

 

The two wandered to the living room, Ulaz placing everything neatly on the sofa. “Drink?”  
“Please.”  
“Tea?”  
“Of course,” Shiro followed him, rolling up the long sleeves to his shoulders. “Is the cut of the sleeves supposed to be this wide?”  
“Yes, I like airy clothing. Living in tight body suits can be quite restrictive as I'm sure you're aware of.”  
“Yeah. Joys of tight clothing, huh?” Shiro pushed two mugs to Ulaz, and stretched out his limbs. “Are your muscles okay?”  
“Yeah, just giving them a stretch. I get tense a lot, but it makes sense with everything.” He tugged the material up to cover his shoulder, frustrated that it kept falling to one side. “Ah, you have it on incorrectly. Here,” Ulaz came over and carefully undone the fabric belt. He passed it to Shiro as he straightened out the fabric and wrapped the pieces around his frame. Shiro felt some twist and loop, until Ulaz fixed the belt. “Sorry, I should have said.” He looked up, and Shiro brought him in to a kiss again.

 

Ulaz picked him up and hoisted him on top of the counter. Shiro locked his legs around his waist, digging in hard as they pulled away. “Can we...?”  
“Only if you want to-” Shiro took him by the wrist and pressed his hand against the semi-hard erection. “I really do.” Nodding slowly, Ulaz brought Shiro into another kiss, trying to push down his nerves. He had no reason to be, but he just didn't want to hurt him. He let out a soft purr when fingers pressed into his waist and the legs tightened around him. With ease, he picked Shiro up, supporting him with one arm as he carried him back to the bedroom. Tea would have to wait until later.

 

He dropped Shiro into the pillows and settled over his hips. The human reached up, grabbing at the clasps and started to work them open. “S-Shiro!” He glanced up, a sultry look gracing his features. “I know we have the whole night,” he muttered as he moved down Ulaz's chest, “but I want to enjoy every tick I can with you. I don't know if or when we can again.” He paused, looking up. Ulaz's gaze softened and he motioned for Shiro to continue, tugging his arms free of the body suit and letting Shiro drag it down to his hips. The human paused, smoothing his hand up Ulaz's abdomen against the grain of the fur. “Not what you were expecting?” Ulaz tilted his head to the side as the human's skin burned red, he chuckled, easing his fingers between the fabric belt and loosening it with no effort. Shiro glanced up at him, swallowing. “How did you?” Ulaz purred, leaning down and tilting Shiro's chin up, running his tongue over his lips. “ _Fuck_.”  
“We will, in time.”

 

Shiro grabbed Ulaz's face, drawing him in for a deep kiss. He groaned into it as clawed fingers gently dragged themselves over his thighs, ghosting the inside. He shuddered, grabbing Ulaz's neck for support. “Such sensitive skin.”  
“You have sensitive ears!”  
“Mm, that's true-” Shiro chuckled as Ulaz tensed up, “you didn't just?”  
“I did. Want me to do it again?” Shiro looked up from under his eyelashes at Ulaz, the Galran blinking slowly at him. Shiro noted he swallowed. He bucked his hips when he felt his inner thigh touched; small circles drawn into the flesh by claws. “U-Ulaz!” It was part laughter, part-shout, as he tried to paw at the wrists. Apparently Ulaz wasn't having any of that, when both were pushed above his head. “Take your punishment,” he chuckled, nuzzling against Shiro's neck. He ran his tongue along the side, the warm breath sending little jolts along his skin. Shiro writhed, the fabric around him loosening.

 

Ulaz moved Shiro to the centre of the bed, settling instead between his thighs. The shirt pooled around Shiro's elbows, as he stared at his chest, his braid frayed and messy. “You're a lot more defined then what I was expecting,” Shiro muttered, watching Ulaz ease the rest of the body suit off, “more scars as well.”  
“Well, I have been engaged in combat.” Ulaz cocked his head to the side. Bodies were hard to admire; especially ones he'd seen so frequently, but the position of the fabric and his facial features, well, he wasn't sure if he should continue to allow his own cock to ache within the confines of his boxers. He laced his fingers under the fabric, Shiro sitting up and grabbing his wrist. “No.”  
“No?” Ulaz chuckled as he watched Shiro shift round until he sat on his knees, the fabric now pooled around his wrists. Ulaz could feel his cock twitch. He drew Shiro's hands to the hem, and he pulled them down without any hesitation. He lacked even more as he took Ulaz in his hand, running his tongue from the head to the base.

 

Sharp claws gripped his shoulders, but Shiro didn't care as he gave small licks to the head. Instead of small spikes around it, there were tiny barbs instead. His worry was somewhat eased when he rubbed the barbs with his thumb; they didn't appear to be that sharp at all. He ran his hand over the ridges that curved around the length, and let out a satisfied noise. Ulaz was probably about to speak, because it sounded like he was trying to talk when Shiro swirled his tongue around the head and took him in his mouth. “S-Shiro,” he breathed, gripping him tighter as he leaned down. “It's g-good.” Shiro hummed in response, and chuckled purposefully when Ulaz hissed out curses. He knew exactly what he was doing, and was going to savour this entirely. Shiro brought his hands around Ulaz's hips, one pressing into the small of his back while the other gripped his ass cheek as he eased himself down his length. He shivered as he felt fingers trace down his back and moaned softly against Ulaz.

 

Shiro managed to work himself up to a steady rhythm, the moans above him increasing in intensity and length. He pulled back, panting and wiping at his lips as he ran his tongue down Ulaz's cock, grazing the ridges with his teeth. He would have to make sure this happened again – one night wouldn't be enough. “Shiro, you- I'm close.”  
“Good.” He replied, voice a little husky-sounding. He nipped lightly at the head and took the base in his hand, giving it a few sharp tugs. He felt Ulaz's body tremble, a low groan escaping his lips. “You taste good,” Shiro murmured, teasing the soft barbs, before pushing Ulaz back into the covers. “You can watch better this way,” he breathed, lazily stroking him. Ulaz pushed himself up on shaky arms, reaching out to stroke his face through a heavy gaze. Shiro chuckled and returned to his work, watching him roll his head back. He smirked around the hotness in his mouth, his own cock painful and leaking. They didn't need sleep, there were vargas left. Shiro built his rhythm back up again, eyes drinking in every rise and fall of his chest, how he bared his teeth, and how he twitched in his mouth. “S-Shiro!” _Fuck_. Shiro let out a contented growl as he felt Ulaz swell in his mouth, and took him down to the hilt as he came down his throat. He gave an approving moan as he drank it down, eyes heavy with want.

 

Ulaz pulled him off and with strength from somewhere, pushed Shiro back into the blankets. He eased his hands from the shirt and pulled it from under him, tossing it to the floor. “That was _good_.”  
“I'm happy,” Shiro panted. Ulaz took stock of his swollen lips and leaned down, nipping at them. Shiro whined, and Ulaz pushed his tongue into his mouth, hand reaching for Shiro's cock. He grasped it and rubbed his thumb against the tip, rolling the piercing back and forth. He let go to resettle between his thighs, bending Shiro's legs back against his body. “Your scent is maddening,” he purred, running the flat of his tongue along his stomach, his body pressing against Shiro's as he reached his neck, where he made small bites and licks, before returning to kiss those swollen lips. Shiro moaned into his mouth, arms gripping him around the neck. Ulaz ground his hips into Shiro earning a needy moan, then again just to hear his delightful voice. “Thank you for such a wonderful orgasm. I'll be sure to return the favour,” his purr was velvety as he took those lips again. It was reckless to indulge like this, but by the gods he would.

 

-

 

Sendak's voice cracked as he verged on falling unconscious from the tightness around his neck. Zarkon relaxed the chain, additionally wrapped around his wrists, and offered him some reprieve. “Do you enjoy this?” Zarkon knew the response already as Sendak nodded vigorously, pressing his hips back into the Emperor's length. The grip tightened around his hip as Zarkon picked up his already dominating pace, forcing some unnatural noise from Sendak's lips. “It hurts?”  
“No, Emperor. Please, continue.” Zarkon pushed him down to his stomach, spreading one of his cheeks wider as he continued, unrelenting. His Emperor rumbled behind him in pleasure, yanking the chain tight again. The metal bit into his wrists and throat, the tightness arousing. Sendak's head struck the wall, and between the sharp pain and the lack of oxygen he saw stars. His arousal, left unattended, smeared up against his stomach, and he prayed that his god would relieve him, or at least demand such a depraved act.

 

Zarkon let out a long, deep snarl that rumbled in the pit of his stomach as his monstrous cock swelled further, and Sendak choked a snarl of his own as he felt it empty inside him, his own muscles clenching tight around his Emperor, keeping him in place. The chain relaxed, and Sendak allowed himself to de-tense. He closed his eye, the heat in his gut still burning. He groaned when Zarkon pulled out and rolled him over to his side, settling beside him. He roughly pushed his head up, the unreadable expression back on his face. “You have satisfied me for the moment, however we are not done.”  
“Of course, your desires must be tended to,” Sendak submitted as Zarkon pulled him by the ear to his cock. “Clean.”  
“Yes, my Emperor.” He took Zarkon in his mouth, tasting the blood and sharp semen. He purred in contentment as the claws moved to the back of his head, playing lazily with the fur. “You are such a loyal subject. You have earned yourself release,” Sendak purred low again, Zarkon twitching against the feeling. The hand buried itself in the fur.

 

-

 

Shiro wasn't sure how much he could arch his back any more then he already had unless he became a contortionist. That wouldn't be happening in the next few ticks. He was just about leaning on his shoulders by this point, and both of his legs were curled around Ulaz's head as he finger-fucked him. _Just his fucking fingers, what's wrong with me?_ The moan hitched in his throat as he felt close _again_ , but Ulaz wasn't allowing it. He felt his tongue lick along his thigh painfully slowly and all Shiro could do was whine and clench the sheets tight between his fingers. “Fuck! How are you... _please_ ,” Shiro begged, moving his hips pathetically. Ulaz chuckled as he flicked his tongue against his taint. “Why would I want to do that when you make such lovely noises? Perhaps I should continue this for the rest of the night?”  
“If you do, I'm going to see if I can crush your face between my thighs!”  
“Well that won't get you want you want,” Ulaz hummed in amusement as he nipped at the sensitive skin, Shiro's body twitching in utter pleasure. He growled out in frustration, but still ground his hips into the touch. “This is torture.”  
“No it's not,” Ulaz nipped again a little closer to the space between his legs and Shiro squeaked, curling his toes as the fingers brushed against his prostate again. “I'm only going to last a dobosh at this rate.”  
“Mmm, maybe not even that. It looks like a small puff of air would send you over the edge.”  
“Don't you- aaah!” Shiro screwed his eyes shut as he fought the feelings back down. Ulaz had breathed on him and _oh my fucking god_ , it felt amazing.

 

“The way you speak, no-one's ever taken the time to warm you up properly. Isn't it nice when you are?”  
“It...feels...fuck.”  
“Does fuck have a few different meanings?”  
“Ulaz...” Shiro growled, squeezing his thighs together lightly. He heard a chuckle and slowly felt the fingers ease out. He whined, begging for something to fill him, and his request was met...somewhat. Ulaz flicked his tongue against the entrance, and then eased it inside. “Fuck!” Shiro pulled the sheets up, smashing his head into the back of the pillow and writhing some more, which only made the feeling more intense. Ulaz purred in amusement and started to work up a pace and pattern that drove Shiro madder with want. He panted and whined, and tried reaching for his painful cock, the precome small droplets against his skin. Ulaz batted his hand away, and curled his tongue inside Shiro.

 

“Patience.” He hushed, running the flat of his tongue over Shiro's entrance a few times. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Shiro seemed to be too aside from all the swearing and strange threats. He nuzzled his face against Shiro's thigh, giving it another lick, before grabbing Shiro by the sides as he pushed his tongue back in, probing deep inside. He kept it up for another ten dobosh's, until his desires finally broke his resolve. He placed Shiro down, smiling at the soft sheen of sweat over his chest. His face was flushed a bright red and he looked totally out of it. Ulaz grabbed the lube and prepared himself, using his spare hand to reapply some to Shiro's body. He groaned as he brought himself level with Shiro's entrance, licking his lips. “Ready?”  
“Fuck. Me. Now. So...close,” his sharp response held the air of a command, and Ulaz was content enough to follow it as he teased Shiro; pressing himself up against him but not breaching. It was a little too enjoyable listening to his growls as he balled his hands into the sheets. He'd been winding him up so much, not letting him have the release he craved.

 

The barbs didn't sting when he felt them enter – the sensation itself felt strange in that he didn't quite know what to make of it. Shiro bit his lip as Ulaz's grip on his hips tightened, face that of concentration. “N-No, further,” Shiro pushed himself against Ulaz, body arching as he gave a throaty moan. “I can take it all.”  
“I'm sure you can,” Ulaz made a quiet growl as he pressed forward, leaning down over his body. Shiro brought him into kiss, moaning and whining as he felt Ulaz sink as far as he could until the head pressed against his prostate. Both made sharp noises, but remained still, adjusting to each other and the new feelings. It didn't matter how many times Shiro'd taken dick before, and by this point it was an obscene amount, but this felt well-fit, snug, _right_. He grabbed Ulaz's face again and pressed his teeth into his swollen lips, bucking his hips up and growling in pleasure at the feeling. “Please,” he whispered against his lips, “here.”

 

Carefully, Ulaz pulled back. He observed for any signs that the barbs might harm him, but Shiro was too lost to the feeling it seemed. Human nails weren't sharp, but they did sting as he felt them sink in to his fur. Ulaz exhaled as the muscles clamped down around him, and he let himself rock his hips back towards Shiro, sinking in again to the warm heat. He set a languorous pace of short but penetrating thrusts as he took Shiro's lips again, exploring his mouth as he gently teased the nipple piercings. Humans had such a wide vocal range, and having him shift from such sweet gasps to husky moans was mesmerising to listen to. _These were noises_ he _was causing_. He vowed to himself he'd make Shiro make more.

 

The pace took a sharp increase. Shiro's voice cracking in pleasure as he pushed his hips up. He took in deep lungfuls of air as he panted out Ulaz's name like a chant, his hands uselessly pawing at his chest and shoulders. He wasn't used to the slowness any more, but the anticipation for _this_ was probably what made everything beneath his skin burn and tingle. He didn't understand how Ulaz had done it, but his thoughts were broken when the fullness left him. He made a pathetic gasp; almost inaudible, as he was pulled up to his knees. Ulaz shifted around behind him, and brought him down into his lap. Shiro grabbed his cock and pushed it back in, curling his toes in euphoria as it filled him back up. He was aware of the softest chuckle behind him, and fell back into the warm chest as a hand curled around his cock, teasing it firmly. Shiro rose and fell against the length, moving his hips so it hit the deepest part of him. He could feel his eyes water at how good it felt, how much it made him ache. Ulaz peppered his shoulder and neck with nips and kisses, Shiro rolling his neck to the side for more access.

 

“B-bite me harder.” He managed as he ground his hips down, barely able to keep his own release at bay. Ulaz grunted in response, but he felt canines brush up against the side of his throat, their press against the skin glancing. Shiro growled and gave a hard thrust down, only serving to stimulate them both just a bit closer. He growled in pleasure when they rested between his neck and clavicle, teasing the skin. “F-Fuck. D-Do it,” Shiro's eyes widened when, with a sharp growl, Ulaz bit down hard. The hand around his cock tensed as Shiro came up his stomach, and he was just about aware of Ulaz striking his prostate before he felt something hot flood his insides. His body slumped forward, and together the two flopped into the sheets, Ulaz still buried within him. Shiro brought his fingers away from his cock, licking the come from his fingers. Ulaz watched through heavy-lidded eyes, pulling the hand away to clean the rest off himself.

 

“At least this is mine to lick up,” he traced his fingers slowly down Shiro's chest, the man quivering into him as he lazily kissed against the skin. Ulaz pulled him gently round, smoothing the hair from his face, “you feel wonderful and your scent is far too intoxicating.”  
“Again...soon.” Shiro pushed himself up on unsteady arms, Ulaz cocking an eyebrow playfully. “I might need to rest a bit more, however,” he brought Shiro's hands round to rest upon his own rear, “if you felt-”  
“yes.” The _speed_ of the reply should probably have him asking questions, but for now it didn't matter. “Then if you fetch my pipe and put the kettle on, I may just let you.” He watched Shiro nod vigorously with determination. “Ah, before you run off,” Ulaz yanked him back to the sheets, “I need to clean you up.” He traced his claws over Shiro's own come and round to his rear, “unless you don't mind?” Shiro moved his body up the bed to make it easier for Ulaz to gain access, and he lapped delicately at his own softening erection. Ulaz shuddered, before leaning down and running his tongue over the sticky mess. It was cloudy and salty – a strange consistency.

 

-

 

He lowered the chain sword, dark blood running down the tip, until he let the bayard return to its normal state. It disappeared, sensing its lack of need, but would return when it was summoned once more. Zarkon forced his fingers into the wound, spreading it wider with his claws. Like usual, Sendak refused to give Zarkon the pleasure of hearing his pain, but it was a quality that he also enjoyed. Such resilience was a rarity in his modern empire. He dragged his claws along the rest of the ancient scar, shredding it back open. “Since you have allowed old wounds to open with your peers, I thought it apt to reopen this one. You recall how?”  
“Yes, Emperor.” His voice was controlled, low. “It was my greatest military failure.”  
“It was.” Zarkon rested his hands behind his back as he came to stand in front of Sendak, his body suspended in chains. “And yet, you still came to me with your head held high even in defeat.”  
“If I were to come quivering like a child, full of fear and cowardice, it would be an insult to you.”  
“It would,” Zarkon took the chain in his hand and gave it a sharp tug. “We are not finished yet, my Commander.” He tossed the chain over Sendak's shoulder and moved back around behind him, digging his claws into his hips as he pressed four clawed fingers back into his ass.

 

-

 

Shiro flopped on top of Ulaz, wrapping his arms around his chest. “I...you... _fuck_.”  
“I think I should be saying _fuck_ ,” he purred, nudging Shiro off his back as he reached for the pipe. His legs felt like they wouldn't work, which was a feeling he quite enjoyed. Rolling onto his back and pushing himself up, he grabbed the ashtray and set it beside him. Shiro pulled himself against his chest, nuzzling and nipping at his short fur. Ulaz lit the pipe and took a long drag. He closed his eyes and exhaled, trailing his fingers over Shiro's damp skin. “That was very good.”  
“Yeah, that was...so good,” Shiro tapped his cheek, and Ulaz passed him the pipe. The two shared it between them in silence. “Hey Ulaz?”  
“Yes?”  
“I feel...safe, not so alone. Thank you.”  
“I said I'd look after you,” he pulled Shiro as close as he could, planting a kiss to his forehead.

 

-

 

“So to clarify, Sendak isn't going to be livid about what happened last night?”  
“No,” Ulaz handed Shiro the mug and settled down on the sofa next to him. “He'd...given me permission when I came over to talk about your report – when you damaged his armour.”  
“I see,” Shiro's eyes turned to stare into the mug as his stomach knotted. “You didn't just-”  
“No,” Ulaz's voice was pointed, “on my honour I would _never_ use you for convenience.” Shiro nodded and he leaned in, rubbing his face against his shoulder. “I'm sorry, I'm just...so used to it.”  
“I know. Please, do not apologise,” Ulaz gave his forehead a tender lick. “Do not worry about my friend either, this won't cause any complications between us.”  
“That's good. I don't want to fuck things up for you.” He let Ulaz take the mug from his hands and draw him in. “Don't talk like this.”  
“I'm sorry,” Shiro buried his head in his chest, toying with the fabric absently.

 

“Have you been thinking much about your friend recently?” Shiro blinked up at Ulaz, roused from his relaxed state. “On and off. There's a photo that bugs me for some reason and I can't let it go.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“It's before we launched for Kerberos,” Shiro sat up and took the tea back in his hands, “I invited Keith with me to the pre-launch party. Adam and I weren't a thing, and I had a plus one, so I thought why not invite him? None of my family were able to attend, so you know, it made sense. It's...this is so stupid,” he sipped his drink, “okay so I don't pull people in close unless they're special to me; family or partners. He's there, blushing in this photo and I just...I don't remember why I would do that and why he'd _look_ like that.”  
“Well did you ever speak to your fellow humans?”  
“No, because until I got that tablet, I'd not had the time or energy to think about things like that.” Shiro drained the mug and set it down. “I think I'm over-thinking this whole thing. I was probably drunk.” _You didn't look it and it was pre-launch – you couldn't._ “I just don't remember.”

 

“I don't know what to say, because I wasn't there and I don't know your friend.” Ulaz sipped his drink, “however I would presume you've acted out of character around others before. When you first tickled my ears, I felt that was odd behaviour for you.”  
“I mean...it was but you're just so serious and I like seeing you in a lighter mood.”  
“Perhaps you wanted to capture the joy your friend brings you in a picture? If you were without your mate, he sounds like the closest relationship you had afterwards, outside of your crew mates. To clarify what I mean; you only ever talk about your crew, your old mate, and your friend. I barely know anything about your family.” He set the mug to the side and rose, smoothing out his body suit. “The blushing, well, I don't understand that fully either, except that he was probably aroused emotionally somehow. You did seem quite kind to him from what I understand, and perhaps he was very fond of you too.” Shiro laughed, “yeah, I might have a soft spot. He'd been deprived of so many experiences and no one believed in him, but he has so much potential to be great, and so much potential to go places. Places I won't.” Shiro chewed his lip, curling his fingers over the metal arm. Ulaz bent down and took him by the hands. “You are a good person. No monster would talk like this.” Shiro leaned in against his chest. “Thank you.” It was nice to be reminded he wasn't a monster, and to be reminded of his relationships not just with the Galra. Sometimes it became too intense.

 

-

 

“You were later than I expected.” Sendak settled on the sofa, looking between the two. “My apologies, Commander. Time seemed to escape us.”  
“See it does not happen again.”  
“Did your meeting go well? You look quite tired.” Ulaz leaned forward, face calm but obviously watching for any tells. “Yes, it was quite insightful.”  
“I'm glad to hear that. Just remember to rest well. You don't want to get sick.”  
“I will take it under advice.”  
“That is all I can offer you,” Ulaz rose, bringing his arm to his chest and bowing. “By your leave, Commander, vrepit sa.”  
“Vrepit sa,” Sendak watched him leave, a deep frown settling over his face. He could never be certain with Ulaz, but he always seemed to have a way of sensing when something was wrong, and it unsettled him at times.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked down to see the slave gazing at him, head tilted to the side in confusion. “It is nothing to concern yourself with.” He ruffled his hair, smoothing his fingers along the braid slowly. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” He brought him into his lap, placing his hands firmly on the slave's hips. “Was it a pleasant evening?”  
“Yes.” His voice was small, and judging by what he could smell and tell from his bashful behaviour, his evening was likely as pleasurable as his own. “You will not be reprimanded for what transpired between you both. I expect you worked hard to please him for all the work he has done?” He smirked at how tense the slave got under him, his eyes darting off to the side, “I-I believe so, Commander.”  
“Good boy.” Sendak pulled his face back to look at him, the skin over his nose redder then normal. He caught his face in his organic hand, and with the prosthetic, traced two claws from the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks, following the heated pattern. The slave yelped and quivered under his hold, eyes wide with panic. Sendak chuckled, dropping his hand down and releasing his grasp. “Your face is red and it amuses me. As I said, I will not reprimand you.” He watched as the slave pawed at his face, clearly checking for signs of blood. “You do not trust me?”  
“It was unexpected. I'm sorry, it's impulsive. It's my mistake,” he bowed his head, and Sendak rested his claws back on his hips. “I plan to rest, and I would like your company.”  
“Of course, Commander. It'd be a pleasure.” Sendak brought his face in, licking over his lips. “I'll make sure it is.” He purred, the slave's face reddening further.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this has been my longest chapter to date, but I did enjoy it. I've never written galra-on-galra porn, so it's my first attempt at broaching it, and also Shiro will eventually have to take the monster dick. When? WELL, later of course.
> 
> I need to check my timeline, but this takes place a movement after last chapter, so we are getting to the phoeb before the matches. I have realised I may need to push this a bit past a deca-phoeb in space for Shiro as well, because if you've noticed Haggar hasn't had much input yet, because I've been cooking up all types of terrible experiments and debating them over. Sendak's done a lot of the ground work for messing Shiro up mentally, but Haggar was the one I think to cause the worst damage.
> 
> Again, thanks for coming along on this long ride with me. I really appreciate you guys sticking it out.


	30. Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> This chapter is where we start seeing the stakes rise for the title matches, which will start by chapter 32. This chapter is focusing on 8/9 movements in the phoeb.
> 
> It's a mixed chapter in terms of content. Non-conny as a heads up at times. Of course it's Sendak being gross. Shiro get's pretty fucking depressed as well and is having another internal conflict.
> 
> I appreciate OCs can be a turn-off but I promise you not everyone's going to be sticking around. The death count will start rising soon enough. Also again it's a chapter where I'm time skipping a bit.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy :)

Shiro dumped the few things he needed on the cot, taking stock of the cell that would be 'home' for the next phoeb until the title matches. It was similar to the cells on the prison ship, except the tiniest bit more lavish. They were at least afforded blankets. He wouldn't lie, he was going to miss waking up in Sendak's warm chest. He shook the thought from his head. He couldn't get thinking about the Commander, not with what he had coming up. He pulled out the folded piece of paper, smoothing it against the floor as he studied the timetable he'd scrawled down.

 

As of tomorrow, they were all scheduled in on certain quintants' to fight whatever prisoners or beasts the Galra found them. On the last quintant of the movement, Rudiarius would allow them all a rest day. That was when they were allowed to leave, although from what Sendak said, it sounded like she'd imposed a curfew. They were allowed to have visitors in the evening, just not for long. Shiro hoped Sendak would be able to visit, since it was only their owners who were granted access, again a rule imposed by Rudiarius. From the looks of it, his first fight was scheduled for two quintants' time. He was excited, but nervous. It'd been a long time since he'd had to put on a show, and since he'd been drilled on finding the quickest way to kill an opponent, he was worried the matches wouldn't last. They all had to watch each other, so at least he could try soothe his nerves then.

 

He whipped his head up as the door opened, flinching away from the light that poured in. “Oi. What're you hiding in here for?”  
“I'm not hiding, I'm reading.”  
“Oh, you wrote it down?” Zestera wandered over and flopped next to him, scanning his crude calendar. “Didn't know you could write Galran.”  
“Sendak's been teaching me – and speaking it.”  
“Does it hurt your throat?”  
“Yeah. You speak it?” He tilted his head to the side and Zestera offered a curt nod. “Only basic amounts, enough to get me through. Gnov made me learn.”  
“I asked, but he was planning to at some point.” He scratched at his cheek.

 

“You must be pleased being away from her.”  
“You have no fucking idea.” Zestera kicked back, coiling their tail around their waist, “she's been a pain in the ass lately and just taking out her shitty moods on me. She's still pissed Sendak turned her down at Ladnok's party.” They pushed the russet strands away, “frankly I could care less about their relationship. She broke it off with him and now wants him back? Ain't happening. He's got the right idea.”  
“What'd that be?”  
“Well, he has you.” Zestera sat up. “I mean, you're not collared now, but you were. Hell, you said he's not been really rapey with you in ages.” Shiro flinched at the crude language and brought his legs up. “Well, things changed a lot after I came back.”  
“From Ragnar?”  
“Yeah.” He felt Zestera move closer. “I heard bits.”  
“Champion?”  
“And Gnov.”  
“Was it the porn they put out?” Shiro let his head roll back, eyes steeling over as he watched Zestera, who awkwardly gave him a swift nod. “And don't tell me, she's seen it.”  
“All of it.” Shiro exhaled loudly. “Do you know anyone who smokes?”  
“No, why?”  
“I need a fucking smoke.” He pushed himself up from the floor, safely tucking away his belongings into the pillowcase. “Hey, I do that too.”  
“Some things are universal.” Shiro smiled to himself as he plucked the timetable from Zestera's hand, their tail slapping his thigh. “I'm going out to look for a smoke.” He muttered, moving towards the door.

 

Procuring them was harder then he thought. The guards would allow him one, but for a 'favour', as they put it. Shiro said he'd think about it, but he wasn't so desperate as to whore himself out for one. The two passed through the quiet hallways, occasionally spotting some of the other gladiators who chose to keep to themselves. Although they could work as a group and it was amicable; it was just that. Some didn't feel up to much talking and broke off into pairs or small groups. They all had their ways of coping, and being part of a social species, Shiro gravitated towards establishing relationships to help him. He felt his frustration prickle to the point he just wanted to work the feeling out. “Wanna spar?” He looked over his shoulder at Zestera, who shrugged in response. “Might as well. We can head out into the arena.” Shiro grunted in agreement.

 

“What ya both doin' out here so late?” They looked down to find Rudiarius sat against the wall, rotating a sword slowly in her large hands. “Little Shiro here won't turn tricks for a smoke, so we're gonna punch each other 'til he calms the fuck down.” Zestera slung their arm over Shiro's shoulder, ignoring the scowl he offered. She didn't laugh and just continued looking at the sword. The two glanced at each other and settled down in front of her. “What's wrong?” She didn't respond to Zestera. They uncurled their tail and gently prodded her thigh. “Why've you got Banlu's sword? What's happened? _Kaleska._ ” Zestera's voice rose, Shiro noting the panic. She raised her head slowly, pressing it back against the metal wall. “She's dead. Gone.”

 

-

 

Shiro was grateful they'd removed the inhibitor, even if he had to take a sword in with him. He'd picked the shamshir-like blade again because he liked it, but also as a 'fuck you' to Nadiva. He offered a solemn look up at Rudiarius, but she just sighed, looking away. “Ya come back safe.”  
“I will,” he rested his hand on her elbow, squeezing it, before he moved through the opening doors. The roars and cheers were as deafening as he remembered as he stalked across the sand. He could feel his heart rate increase in the humidity he'd _missed_ , and basked under the hot bright lights. The scent of blood hung in the air, and as he gazed around the stands, his eyes finally settled on his opponent. It was small and held the sword incorrectly; he had nothing to worry about. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. _Why give me such a weak opponent right off the bat? What kind of insult is this?_ He growled down at the alien, who froze up as it caught his eyes. “Try make this fun, alright? No one's going to remember you if you freeze up. Have some self-respect.” All he received was a terrified whine.

 

“Vrepit sa!” _Finally._ Shiro watched as the alien dropped the sword and just ran. He let his head fall back and snarled in frustration. He wasn't in the mood for this game of chase that wouldn't take long considering how stumpy its legs were, and how little ground it had covered. He shrugged his shoulders and plunged the sword into the sand. He might as well get some arm practice in at this point. He could feel the heat of its activation and smiled; he'd make Sendak proud, he'd get the collar back.

 

He presumed Zarkon noticed his discontented disposition as he signalled quickly for Shiro to kill. He pulled the creature up by the ankle, tilting his head to the side. “You posed no challenge,” he bit out, tossing the exhausted alien to the floor. It coughed and rubbed at its eyes, and Shiro growled in anger, drawing his hand back and piercing it through it's chest. He felt the blood splatter against his face as he pulled out his hand, letting it fall deactivated to his side. There was a loud enough cheer around him, but the match was dull. Hopefully, as he looked over at the remaining prisoners and licked his lips absently, he may get a decent fight.

 

-

 

“What do you want?” Shiro let his arms fall away from the purple shirt he wore. “Just to look at how disgustingly barbaric you are, whore.”  
“Because you don't cut your opponents down without thought.”  
“I told you how I fight.” Nadiva moved into his personal space, leaning down to stare at him. “Did you forget?”  
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Shiro glared at him; they'd never had that conversation – they'd rarely ever spoken and even then it was antagonistic. “Ah, feigning ignorance. Such a Galran trait.”  
“I'm not feigning anything. You're a liar.” Shiro shoved him away, raising his metal arm to defend himself.

 

“You plan to harm me? I'll shatter it before you have the chance.”  
“Not before I break your brittle bones,” Shiro sneered, lips curling back. Nadiva just looked at him. “You can try, but you will fail. I, however,” he grabbed Shiro's shirt and pushed him backwards into the wall, “will enjoy making you beg for me again.”  
“I won't let you,” Shiro grabbed Nadiva's wrist with his prosthetic, the hand activating and burning his silvery skin. Nadiva took it, hissing out as he pressed his knee between his thighs, grinding it up painfully. “You don't have to let me.” With his free hand, he grabbed Shiro's hair and forced his head back against the wall, and sunk his teeth into his lips. “I'll have you desperate again just like the times in the brothel,” he pulled away and moved fluidly from the room. Shiro panted heavily, letting himself slide down the metal wall. _But we never? It's only been once? Why did he sound so convinced? I don't...he's lying, I'd remember that._ Shiro frowned; it was all lies, of course it was. His mind had been trawled through enough and it'd been found by now if they had. Sendak would've probably been livid.

 

-

 

Shiro sat against the wall, cigarette in hand. He was frustrated; not because of his earlier fights, but because Sendak hadn't been able to turn up like he wanted. He'd received the message through when a guard came to his cell. They'd managed to make a small trade-off of sorts, this one just wanted to touch his skin and hair, and if that's all he needed to allow for a smoke, he'd take it. He found slipping back into the roll of a gladiator was easier this time around, and he didn't need as much of his facade as before. He frowned into the sand. He was uncertain if that was necessarily a good thing at this point.

 

He turned his head to see the doors open and Azea slink out. He'd seen the new scars she'd got in the showers, and had a deep one running over her eye now. She tilted her head to look down at him, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?” Shiro eyed her cautiously. She made some strange rumble and settled beside him, her tail tip twitching. “Can you be silent?”  
“Was until you got here.”  
“Good.” She leaned back against the wall, wincing, as she pulled out a small packet. “Didn't know you smoked,” she muttered, placing one in her jaws. “Light?”  
“Thought you could breathe fire?”  
“Not the right type,” she snorted in response, “neurotoxins are my business.” She took the lighter from Shiro's hand and sparked it up.

 

They remained in silence long after Shiro had finished. She would occasionally roll another and smoke it, but he remained. “Why did you do that to her?”  
“Teamwork is a waste of time. The only one you can rely on is yourself on the battlefield.” She didn't look at him as she spoke, staring out in to the arena. “How many times have you fought out there alongside someone?”  
“Never, bu-”  
“Exactly. The camaraderie is false – we're all fighting for ourselves. The only time teamwork has use is during military operations, and if you cannot trust your comrades, then you are a cancer.”  
“How did you ever come to command?”  
“It was my birthright,” her horns knocked against the wall as she tilted her head round, “I am a creature of war. It's why,” she let her gaze wander back to the arena, “I feel so at home – peace - here. To answer you; I didn't expect her to die, but in that happening I've proved my point to the Rudiarius.”  
“You'd let someone die just to prove a point?”  
“Oh, Shiro,” she shook her head, a dead smile on her face as she played with the packet, “she wasn't the first, and I doubt she will be the last-”  
“How...how can you _say_ that?” Shiro felt his voice hit a higher pitch but it didn't matter. “How can you treat someone's life like it's _nothing_?”  
“Because mine and Serkdra's meant nothing to our race. We were to be sacrificed like _espiens_ to the slaughter,” the snarl was bitter. “You wouldn't understand it if I explained the intricate details, but know that we were getting set up for death under the guise of a false religion that has _lied_ for thousands of rotations.” She handed him a cigarette. “I do not come here to be liked or make friends. I fight because it is all I've known, and embrace a life of blood and death over one of pointless sacrifice. It's like I've cheated destiny,” She let the smoke billow out through her nostrils. “If it's easier, write me off as evil – a monster – and I'll preform that to perfection.” She glanced at him, offering him the lighter.

 

Shiro took it in his hand and lit up. “I don't know what to think.”  
“What does your gut say?”  
“Give you a chance,” he looked at her, “I'm not the type of person to just write someone off.” She gave him a long stare with her strange eyes, before closing them and clapping a hand to his shoulder. “You are strange. You fight with such passion, but your trust is so naïve. Don't let it be your undoing.” She rose from the floor, stretching out her muscles. “Find me again if you want a smoke,” she paced towards the door as he watched her, “and try not to sell yourself for a smoke.” He flinched at her remark as she tapped her ear. “It's sharp.”

 

The door closed with a heavy slam and he looked back out to the arena, inhaling a drag. _You really are frolicking with the monsters._ We're all monsters in here. _Yes, and it is to be embraced for repurposing._ He flicked the ash away, absently watching the pale orange glow. His mind was right, perhaps that was why he'd been finding it easier. He let his head knock back against the wall, eyes unfocused into the distance.

 

-

 

Teeth struck metal, the sound sharp in his ears as Shiro forced the blade into the rancid mouth of the creature above him, it's saliva dripping down and dissolving away the fabric. It burned as it splattered against his face. With all his strength, he pushed the blade inwards, the edges drawing blood as it tore through the skin. It wheeled away in pain, snapping its jaws at him as its hackles rose. Shiro rolled to his feet, taking the sword in his left hand and activating the prosthetic. He couldn't draw this fight out either; he was wounded and couldn't keep going forever. The creature bounded in a zig-zag pattern towards him, dropping on its haunches as it leapt again for his jugular. Shiro dropped to his knee and pushed himself forwards, thrusting the sword into its throat. With the hand, he plunged his fingers into its eye socket, watching it smoulder under the intense heat. He ripped the blade out, and punctured several more deep holes into its neck.

 

The creature dropped down onto its front legs and toppled over, the sand soaking the blood up like a sponge. Shiro backed away panting, staring at the blood on his prosthetic as it deactivated. He looked at the almost-black stains on his human hand, mouth opening and closing. He blinked pointedly, bringing himself out of whatever that was. He raised the sword to the air in victory as the crowds screamed and bellowed. He was a little glad that was his last fight for the quintant, he needed healing.

 

-

 

Sendak shoved Shiro up against the door, pushing a knee between his thighs. “You wearing this brings back good memories,” Sendak purred as he came down to slowly lick away the patches of blood from Shiro's face. Some of it was his, the rest from his fights earlier. Shiro hummed in response as Sendak tugged him by the fringe, twisting his claws into the strands. “I want you cuffed to my bed again, and I want to tear this to shreds.”  
“You can do it any time you please, Commander.” Shiro's gut knotted painfully at how excited Sendak seemed to be getting. He raised his hands to grip his shoulders as Sendak ran his tongue along his neck, grazing his teeth into the skin. “Fuck,” Shiro hissed, dropping his head forward.

 

“You are very pliant,” Sendak purred as he removed his knee, letting his slave slide down to the floor. “I'm exhausted, that's all.” He pushed himself onto his knees and rested his hands against Sendak's hips. “Do you?”  
“Of course.” He watched as he unfastened the clasps and eased his cock out, taking it slowly in his mouth. Sendak brought his hand back down into his hair, tugging it hard and earning a whine. He'd have loved to break the slave down more like this if he'd remained as the champion; there'd have been more satisfaction in breaking something more proud. He forced the slave's head back against the door and positioned himself closer, rolling his hips forward and hearing him gag. Sendak let out a low rumble in his throat as he picked up the pace, the slave trapped between him and the door. His mind rushed with potential what-if scenarios as he lost himself in the warm and moist mouth. There was always more he could do, and once his slave regained the title that was so rightfully his, well, he could enact some of his fantasies then.

 

Sendak was getting close from what Shiro could tell, and for the first time in a while, he wished he'd just hurry up and finish. He'd not been feeling right lately. Maybe it was all the blood and gore, or the possibility he may not survive the matches as the date crept closer towards the games. The odd visits from Nadiva and the lies he kept spouting was perplexing as well. It was past the point it felt like taunting or trash talk. No, he had to steel himself from his doubts; his memory was fine, Sendak was fine, he was fine. He was just tired, and in exhaustion, working himself up into a frenzied state.

 

Sendak didn't come down his throat. Instead, he pinned his arms behind his back and bent him over the cot, shredding the fabric of his body suit around his ass. Shiro whimpered when he pushed himself in, his body unprepared for the intrusion. “C-Commander?” He tried to look around, but the prosthetic claws kept his head in place, pressing it down into the metal. He thrust harder, the spikes from the head rough against his insides. His voice cracked as he tried to adjust his stance, but Sendak was unyielding as he snapped his hips back and forth. “Such a pliant slave, such a good boy. So quiet, even though it hurts.” He leaned down and pressed his teeth into the skin between the base of his neck and shoulder. Shiro cried out in pain as he tried to pull away, but there was no way he could. “Try and free yourself, it makes this all the more exhilarating.” Sendak purred in his ear, the rumble in his throat unsettling.

 

-

 

“I don't understand why he's having trouble,” Haxus leaned against Sendak's shoulder as they watched the fight below. “I'm not certain myself.” Sendak rested his head against Haxus's as he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't his usual bloodthirsty self and was letting his opponent – someone who he could easily defeat – connect their blows. The crowd around them roared in anger at the display, and Sendak was getting frustrated at his behaviour. He needed reminding again _if_ he survived the match. If he had given up, Sendak had no idea what he'd do to the body.

 

After another five dobosh's the slave's body rolled across the sand. He felt his heart skip a beat as he lay there unmoving on the floor. “He better get up, I placed a bet on him to win this match.”  
“He _will_.” Sendak snarled as he watched the alien approach the body, standing across his chest and drawing the sword up. The two looked up, eyes wide as the alien went to strike. Sendak pushed himself out of his seat and gripped the bars so tight the one in his prosthetic twisted, “don't you _dare die here!_ ” His roar turned a few heads, but he only cared at the sword that had been stopped a few inches or so away from his heart. The slave had caught it in both hands, and when the prosthetic activated, it cut through the cheap metal with ease. The alien backed away immediately, it's body tense as it looked around. He watched with baited breath as the slave rose from the sand, dusting it away as he moved forward slowly. He clamped the activated hand around his waist where he'd been slashed, screaming out in agony as the heat cauterised the wound. Sendak's ears twitched as he watched the slave do the same to the leg wound. He shook his head and stood still for a few ticks, before moving with purpose towards the alien that looked ready to make its last stand. Sendak bit his lip as they launched at the slave, who caught them under their arm, turned, and tossed it over his shoulder with ease. The body hit the floor with a thud, and the slave moved in to settle across its chest.

 

Zarkon gave the signal and Shiro turned his head slowly to look at the horrified alien. “Y-You were toying with me?”  
“No,” Shiro clawed his hand out as stared down, “I did genuinely want you to kill me.” He tilted his head to the side as he pierced the side of the alien's chest, “you took too long,” he punctured the other side, listening to the wheezes, “and I guess I remembered why I fight.” He took the neck in his metal hand, squeezing it tight, “I want to feel alive. I want to _feel something_.” He felt the neck snap, but it didn't register. “I'm tired of feeling cold. I just want warmth.” He pressed his fingers into the puncture marks, letting out a soft laugh. “You're pretty warm. I hope you don't mind sharing your heat.” Shiro moved down his body and drew up the metal hand. He struck down, smashing his fist repeatedly until he felt the sternum give out. Pushing his fingers into both holes he made earlier, he sunk it down into the flesh. _It soothes._

 

-

 

_Shiro stood in the arena – but there was something off that he couldn't place. He looked around to the empty stands, uncertain where the thunderous racket that filled his ears was coming from. He moved forward – tried – but it felt like he was walking through glue. In a panic he looked at the floor – nothing. The anxiety swelled within his chest._

 

_He screamed as something surged through his body. He fell to the floor, paralysed, as heavy footsteps approached from behind. He wanted to scream again - claw away. Something sharp coiled around his leg._

 

_He was dragged. Faster and faster and faster until he wasn't sure how his skin remained intact. Strange constellations passed him by. There was no floor any more._  
_Shiro fell._  
_He kept falling.  
_ _Faces and golden eyes accelerated past him until it was a blur of colour. He closed his eyes, blotting out the lights that made him feel sick until they passed and he returned to darkness._

 

_Silence.  
_ _He cracked open his eyes; a circular saw blade twisting its way towards him on metal arms. Shiro screamed again as he still fell, unable to right himself away from the sentient-nature of the saw. It whirled to life and pressed against his right arm – human again._

 

 _He came to a hard stop, chains rattling around him. He was in pain. He cracked open his eyes. Matt was there. Shiro sucked in a sharp breath, unable to look at him. “I'm sorry.”_  
“ _You're a monster.”_  
_Shiro looked up, but he'd vanished._  
_He was cold. So cold. He turned his head and looked back as far as the collar would allow. He was naked._  
_A door swished open. No one was there._  
_Shiro rattled the chains, calling out in desperation.  
__The calls were met by faceless creatures grabbing at his skin; their hot touch burning his flesh. He struggled in the bonds as he felt himself forced open from behind. There was too much. It was too much._

 

 _It stopped._  
_An orange glow._  
_Sendak stood before him. “Good boy,” he said. Shiro lifted his head up shakily. “Why am I here?” Sendak leaned down and cupped his face gently. His mouth opened but no words came out. Shiro asked again and he answered silently once more._  
“ _I'm so proud of you,” Sendak stroked his cheek as he moved aside, letting Shiro see the pile of bodies stacked up. “It'll be bigger soon.”  
_“ _No...no,” Shiro thrashed himself free, somehow, and ran._

 

 _He came to an intersection of several paths. He was outside – on Earth._  
“ _Which one, Takashi?”_  
_Shiro twisted himself around to be met with Adam and Keith._  
“ _Do I have to pick?”_  
“ _Yes.”_  
“ _Can't I go back?” He felt his gut wrench at Adam's laughter. He wiped his eyes, “no, Takashi. You really can't.”  
_“ _Shiro, you need to choose.” Keith walked over to him and looked up, offering a small smile. “I know you're going to pick the right one. You're a good person.” Shiro dropped to his knees and threw his arms around him. “Sendak's coming. I can't come with you, but we'll see each other again, 'kay?” Keith gently pushed Shiro away and walked back to stand beside Adam. He offered another smile and raised his hand in farewell. Shiro stood, blinking at all the paths that looked the same. On the horizon, he could see Central Command looming a long shadow that encroached upon them._

 

 _He ran._  
_Greenery became desert that became emptiness that became rock, and eventually he found himself cast in pink light staring at himself. Galran architecture surrounding them. “You've given up! What about Matt and Sam? We need to protect them!”_  
“ _We can't when we're the ones that hurt Matt!”_  
“ _You hurt him!” The doppleganger spat, moving forward and tugging the prosthetic hand up in their human hands. “You let them change you, let them break you.”_  
“ _You haven't been through it all yet!” Shiro pulled his arm away. “You're a version that just got here – you've not undergone what I have!”  
_“ _Then how would I let myself get to the where you are?”_

 

“Shiro? Ya don't look good,” Kaleska planted a hand on his shoulder as he jerked away, almost falling off his seat. He looked up, blinking between those seated. “Y-Yeah, I was just daydreaming.” He tried to brush it off but none of them were having it. “It's not been the first time you've had 'just a daydream'. You're not eating, your battle yester-quintant was dire and then fucked up, and you've not been yourself.” Zestera pointed their fork at Shiro, “you need to stop shoving down whatever it is you're feeling or not feeling, 'cause lemme tell you, we've all been there.” Shiro flinched away, gaze moving to the food he'd barely touched again in front of him. “I will let Sendak know if ya aren't gonna be able to fight.” Kaleska gave him a firm look, “if we gotta, you will be pulled. Seen enough gladiators fall to mental ruin, ain't gonna let that happen to Tiny.”  
“It's _Shiro_ ,” he growled. She laughed, pulling him in for a tight hug. “C'mon. Bring ya crap to my room.”  
“I wanna smoke,” Shiro mumbled. Kaleska nodded slowly and scooped him under her arm, motioning for Zestera. “We'll get ya some smokes, but then we're gonna talk, kay?” Shiro sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

 

-

 

Shiro flopped down onto the sofa, digging his fingers into the fabric and rolling so his back pressed against the smooth fabric. Sendak frowned at him as he unfastened his chest armour. **“Do you plan to roll on the sofa all quintant?”  
** “ **No, I've missed this.”  
** “ **It was only a movement ago.”  
** “ **That's a long time in the arena.”  
** “ **Your fights have been better to watch recently. What happened?”  
**“ **I don't know the words in Galran to tell you,”** Shiro watched Sendak pull out his tablet, pressing the screen. “There, now explain yourself.” Sendak sat beside him, pulling him into his lap and bringing his face up. Shiro half-relaxed in his hold, still partly shaken from the twisted 'game' Sendak had forced him into playing during his mid-movement visits to his cell.

 

“I've been,” he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, “conflicted internally. The fight where you shouted at me, I...wanted to just let it end. I got...frustrated though – it didn't come quickly enough, so I just got...bored.”  
“How so?”  
“Well it was an easy fight, but it was just waiting. They kept hesitating and wouldn't end it.”  
“Well, I'm content they didn't kill you.”  
“Why are you content? I don't understand your motivations at all at times,” Shiro brought his eyes back up to Sendak's face. He smoothed his fingers against Shiro's cheek, rubbing small circles into the skin. “I need you to tell me. I've given myself over to you – letting you repurpose me. I need you to re-establish my convictions, because right now my head is a mess, and I feel like I'm drowning.” He dropped forward into the broad chest, feeling his body shudder as he let out a choked sob. “I'm so sorry.”

 

“It would always be difficult for you – this conflict – because of your human side.” Sendak moved the slave's body so he was cradled against his own. “My motivations remain the same; I want to bring out your potential. I am content you are alive, because it shows you are strong – resilient. The time we have spent together has been intense, but for all your frustrating behaviour, I have perhaps enjoyed your company more than expected.”  
“Am I an object to you?” Sendak cursed his questioning, he'd hoped that his answer had been enough. “You are still a slave, but I view you more like a pet.”  
“Is that why you get protective?”  
“Yes.” His ears flicked in frustration at himself. He felt the slave move, and fingers brush against his fur. “Commander?”  
“Yes?”  
“Permission to act freely?”  
“Permission granted,” he watched as the slave moved back in front of him, pressing his lips against his own. Sendak allowed the tongue in, and drew his hand up against the back of his head, noting the small gasp.

 

Being a pet was better then being an object, even if it was still unbalanced. _It wouldn't be unless you were free from slavery_. He'd have no use for me then. _Are you certain?_ Freedom isn't coming. He deepened the kiss, taking it slow as he pushed his fingers into his neck fur. “Please save me from this hell,” he whispered as he pulled away, “please give me a reason to live.” He pleaded. Sendak's large hands settled around his waist, Shiro tensing automatically. “Let us talk more. I feel there is much still left unsaid.” He lifted Shiro and carried him towards the kitchen, giving his cheek a small lick.

 

-

 

The gladiators were gathered around Kaleska as she laid the body out. She closed their eyes and sighed heavily, looking up at the others. “Tonight we mourn, and we celebrate Xiquis's life and death.” They murmured in agreement back, before parting for her as she moved through the halls with the corpse. This was another for the Druids and their twisted experimentation. Her face twisted in rage as she approached the main hall, a Druid already lurking there with a transport pod.

 

“The High Priestess will be happy with this one. Thank you, Kaleska.”  
“Nothin' to thank me for,” her rumble was guttural. The Druid raised its masked face, making a strange laugh behind it, “you train them all so well, so you deserve some of the thanks. We will be seeing you shortly, to give you another top-up.” It took the body from her arms and placed it in the pod, using whatever unholy dark magic to levitate it from the floor. She could do nothing but muster a glare as it left. She didn't need the reminder about the experiments upon her – the death that was stolen away.

 

-

 

Ulaz felt a cold chill run down his spine as Shiro eviscerated the prisoner. He dug his claws into the fabric against his thighs, jolting when he felt a hand squeeze his. He looked up, Thace's face marred with concern. He leaned in, whispering, “you can leave if you're not comfortable.”  
“I know,” Ulaz pushed himself closer, “but I need to stay.”  
“I know it hurts you to see him like this, but the alternative isn't much better.” Thace smoothed the back of his neck lovingly. Ulaz nodded into his shoulder, watching Shiro hoist the blade above his head in victory. He paced across the sand, levelling it at the remaining prisoners he had left to fight.

 

“It's a shame he's not Galran,” Thace's voice was almost inaudible over the crowd, “we could use someone like him in the ranks.” Ulaz pulled himself up, cocking an eyebrow at Thace. “ _That_ behaviour would need to go right away,” he growled. Thace blinked at him, clearly realising the implication he'd made. “O-Of course, I meant his swordsmanship.”  
“Perhaps.”  
“Would he...?”  
“No,” Ulaz gave him a hard look. “Besides which, I think he would be a liability.”  
“That's true,” Thace turned his head back to the arena, and both watched as Shiro sent his opponent flying back with a sharp kick to its abdomen; the display screens showing the look of pure exhilaration. Ulaz spotted a thin cut across the side of his nose. He was itching for the movements to pass so he could see him again, even if it was under professional circumstances.

 

-

 

“What're you fighting for?” Azea asked.  
“I want to belong somewhere. I want to feel warmth and some semblance of happiness. I want to atone for mistakes I've made.” Shiro exhaled smoke through his nose as they both stared at the spires of the arena. His talk with Sendak had been, strangely, quite eye-opening a few movements' ago. He'd listened to him, and allowed him his moments of weakness. Most importantly, he had been gentle with him. “Do you have the conviction to believe you belong here?”  
“Yes.”  
“You would live and die by the sword...glowing hand?”  
“I fight to win.” A sharp rumble of laughter was his reply. “So, my next question is who do you fight for?” She flexed her taloned toes lazily. Shiro observed it, before studying the orange glow. “Myself, my Commander, and those I've hurt.”  
“Why do you care about the latter?”  
“They were my reason to live for a long time since I was taken here, and in time I've let it slip.”  
“Still think you're a drack for doing it for others, but it'd be a shit if we agreed. What about you, Zestera?” He glanced up to see Zestera poking their head out around the door, scowling at Azea.

 

“I'm not about to go telling you shit.”  
“Like I really care what you think anyway,” she pushed herself up, towering over them as she stalked past. They whipped their tails at each other, circling around like they would fight. “Leave your mating dance for another day. I was enjoying it out here.” Shiro snapped, taking a deep inhale and glaring at them both. Azea grunted and left, while Zestera came and flopped beside him. “Why'd you talk to her?”  
“She shares smokes with me,” he leaned back into the wall, “and conversations with strangers can be helpful.”  
“Still,” Zestera shifted uneasily, wrapping their tail around their waist, “I don't trust her.”  
“I'm not going to tell her my deep, dark secrets or make her my best friend. She's icy, difficult. You were too,” he nudged Zestera, who gave him a disapproving frown.

 

“So what're you after me for?”  
“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?” Shiro's lips tugged into a smirk and he tried to hold back a laugh. “ _You_ want to spend time with someone?”  
“Alright, you snarky little shit! I don't _need_ company!”  
“Of course I'll hang out. It's fine,” Shiro stubbed out the dog end, burying it in the sand. “Wanna sit out here?”  
“Follow me.” Zestera pushed themselves up and motioned Shiro to follow.

 

-

 

“If you win the title of Champion, aside from what we discussed previously, the Emperor will grant you a single request. My question is; what would else would you desire?” Sendak grunted as the slave slammed himself down hard, a hoarse moan escaping his throat. “I don't know,” he gasped, bringing Sendak's hands up to his chest to caress his skin. “Surely there are things you desire?”  
“Y-Yeah, but it's a-ah!” The slave arched his back wonderfully as Sendak pinched at the piercings. “It's?”  
“It's such an honour. There's nothing I want that you can't,” he fell forward into his chest, panting heavily as Sendak picked up the slack, “can't provide.”  
“Not even freedom?”  
“How could I be yours if I was free?”  
“You'd still be tied to me, I would be your sponsor of sorts.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“I would still support you,” Sendak grabbed his ass cheeks, “however you'd be able to earn GAC. I'd have you working under my command. You would have to undertake tasks on my request, so if I required this,” he purposefully thrust up hard, “you would do as requested. You'd have a few more rights as well.”

 

He wondered if he could ask Zarkon to get Sendak to stop giving him important information during the heat of sex, but didn't particularly want to have ask that in the middle of the arena. Even if it was known, he didn't want the entire empire to know. Freedom itself was tempting, but he wasn't totally convinced it would be that easy; there'd be another catch for sure. For now, he focused on what was right in front of him, and that was his Commander. Shiro bit down against Sendak's lips, the growl making his insides pool with heat.

 

-

 

_The surface of the ground reflected the universe above him. Shiro had been walking for vargas in solitude and silence. His body felt lighter again, like when he got his problems out in the open. He stopped to stare at his feet, ripples radiating out around him, though they remained dry._

 

“ _Shiro.”_  
_He felt the space contract drastically as he turned to find Ulaz stood behind him. He took a step forward, but gained no ground. “Ulaz?”_  
“ _How do you feel?” He sat down on the ground, violet-white like quintessence. Everything was so bright he thought it would blind him. “At ease within myself.”_  
“ _Will you carry along your chosen path, even though you do not know where it'll lead?” He tilted his head to the side, studying him intently. Shiro settled down on his knees. “I can't go back.”_  
“ _No one can undo what's been done, but it's how you move forward. Be aware, because one quintant you will find yourself upon a precipice so tall that if you fall, there may be no coming back up again.”_  
“ _Do you mean death?”_  
“ _No,” he rose and moved towards Shiro, settling down in front of him, “I mean what you decide. Your actions will have consequences – repercussions – and you need to be certain that the path you have taken is one you will be able to live with.”_  
“ _I don't understand.”_  
“ _You will in time,” Ulaz rose to his feet, offering Shiro a hand, “I'd like to walk with you, if I may.”  
_“ _Of course you can,” Shiro took the offered hand._

 

Shiro broke out of his daydream as the cell door opened. Kaleska came in, her eyes looking much brighter than normal, “gotta visitor for ya.” She let Sendak through the door, who gave her a curt nod before she dismissed herself, glancing at Shiro protectively. He looked up at the Commander, who had that look about him. Apparently they were back to playing the 'game' again. He pushed himself to the floor, making room between him and Sendak. “The fuck do you want?” He raised his fists defensively, and Sendak replied with his gauntlet pressing him into the wall. He closed the gap and cuffed one hand, then flipped his body around against the wall to do the other. He dragged Shiro to the centre of the room with resistance, of course, and pushed him to his knees. Claws tilted his chin up, and rested pointedly by the side of each eye. “You know _exactly what I want_.” He pressed the claws down, Shiro forced still, “I want you to beg for your master.” Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat. This felt like a fucked-up rape fantasy that wasn't likely a fantasy. “That'll be hard, because I don't have one.” He bared his teeth in defiance, wondering how much of this was an act from himself.

 

-

 

Shiro and Zestera turned as the door opened to the cell. “I didn't think you'd-” Shiro's face paled and his eyes went wide as Ranveig stood in the doorway. “Were you hopin' for someone else?” He offered a toothy grin as he watched the two. “Shouldn't be surprised you two're screwin' about. Just like your masters.” Zestera's tail lashed against the floor as they moved forward. “We're not screwing around, and you've got no grounds on that.”  
“Well,” Ranveig leaned down, “you seemed all cosy when I came in.”  
“We're friends.” Shiro stepped forward and kept his breathing as even as he could. “That's all.” Ranveig rolled his shoulders and yanked the two of them towards him by the hair. He pulled their heads back in his iron grip, sniffing the air. “I suppose the only thing I can smell is the stenches of your masters, a shame, yours smells delicious,” he pressed his face up against Zestera, who curled their lips back. “She wouldn't fuck you even if the Emperor commanded it.” He released them both from his grasp, gazing at them like a hungry animal as he turned. “I was looking for Champion, please forgive my _intrusion_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm four pages in to chapter 31, and there will be plenty of Shendak and an Uliro scene because it's the movement befoooore! It's a bit of a bitch to write, in all fairness, because I'm getting to big fight scenes and internally a bit like hjhsjfhhjfeu I need to make them all different.
> 
> This chapter was okay to write, although I've been reflecting back recently over where it's gone (and getting ideas for more Shendak fics that I will write at some point). I somewhat regret having Shiro lose the title so early, but I wanted to really put him through a trial to get to where he is now.
> 
> I've been sat on this otherwise since...yesterday? I finished it on the 2nd, but thought to wait a few days to get further into chapter 31 before I posted. Also it was my 29th on the 3rd (a v quiet day but nice).
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Can't wait to hear any thoughts ^^ thank you for reading!


	31. Precipice of Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos!
> 
> I have finally broken my one word titles o:  
> This chapter took a while for a few reasons, but mostly because I've been busy this week and it's been /hard/ to write. I had a scene I stalled on for ages because it would just not come out right. I've also started writing a new fic - a Sheith one - which needs a few edits, but will be worked on when I get a bit too overwhelmed with this one because of upcoming heavy content.
> 
> General notes: there is a lot of shendak, and there is one uliro scene!, and a non-con set up at the bottom. There's an...interesting moment between Zarkon and Shiro, but this isn't their only interaction, or the major one I plan for. That scene gets a bit questionable. Outside of all the smut or implied smut, it's not actually a bad chapter.
> 
> Each scene break reflects 1 of the 8 quintants Shiro has off. Bolded text is them speaking Galran, as usual. I do hope you enjoy!

“ **You're finally starting it?”** Sendak pointed at the book in Shiro's hands. He smiled, nodding at Sendak as he placed it carefully on the table. **“Yes. I want to read it.”  
** “ **You won't have a lot of time this movement for things like this.”  
** “ **No time for what?”  
** “ **No time for reading.”** Sendak clarified. **“I want you rested, but also to run some practice drills. We can discuss battle tactics as well against each of the others. You will be seeing Ulaz; he has been quite vocal in checking you over himself.”** Sendak rubbed the newest gouge that ran over his shoulder. Shiro nodded, trying to make sure he'd understood what Sendak had meant. **“So rest, train, learn? And see Ulaz?”  
** “ **Essentially, yes. There is also a surprise lined up for you.”  
** “ **I'm not sure about that,”** Shiro didn't have all the words he wanted, but Sendak seemed to understand what he meant, **“it isn't terrible. I'm not going to let the crew have you.”  
**_Yet, but one quintant he probably will again._

 

“ **So do I have any time to read this?”  
** “ **No. Apologies.”** Shiro raised his eyebrows in surprise, **“I did not expect that.”  
** “ **You just looked very hopeful.”** Sendak shrugged, pacing over and lifting Shiro from the chair. He'd gotten into a habit of carrying him around, and so much as he _sometimes_ didn't mind it when he was exhausted, it was patronising most of the time. **“Put me down.”  
**“ ****No.” Sendak's laugh sounded harsh, but hid the amusement in it, as he carried Shiro down the corridors towards the bathroom. 

 

-

 

Shiro carefully set the mug down, glancing over to Sendak who was like usual, reading something on the tablet. He stood, just watching him. **“What is it?”  
** “ **You're always reading – working.”  
** “ **It's what's required of me.”  
** “ **I know, but it's your movement off.”** Shiro perched at the edge of the bed. Sendak placed the tablet into the sheets and leaned back, scratching the back of his ear. **“It is strange. You used to focus solely upon your work like myself.”  
** “ **That is true,”** Shiro looked at the carpet beneath his feet, **“I think it's because I don't have that responsibility any more.”  
** “ **Leadership is a lonely and thankless role.”  
** “ **It is. There's so much you need to keep track of; a lot responsibilities.”  
**“ **Would you consider yourself fit to lead?”** Shiro tensed at the question. Not only was it rude, he wasn't sure how to answer. **“I think I could if I found myself in the position again.”** He narrowed his eyes at the floor. 

 

“ **Come and sit,”** Sendak patted the space beside him, the slave glancing over. He pulled himself up and moved on his hands and knees up the bed. Sendak frowned as the tablet was placed to the side as he settled in his lap. **“I did not mean on me.”  
** “ **You're comfortable and I might be dead before the end of next movement. Let me have this.”** The slave pushed Sendak's neck back and sunk his teeth in, bringing his hands up to scratch the base of his ears. Sendak frowned as he leaned his head away, letting him have more room to bite at, but the slave seemed very precise about where he wanted to – the same spot he did. **“What are you hoping to accomplish? You realise your position is under me?”  
**“ **I know,”** his voice hoarsely growled at a low timbre, a possible attempt at whispering in Galran, **“because as we both know it's where I belong.”** That made Sendak shiver, and earned a raspy growl of laughter. **“You've had your fun,”** he mused, flipping Shiro back into the bed, **“but now I want satisfying.”** He listened to the awkward purring sound that the slave made. There was an attempt. ****“Well, I'm waiting, _Commander_.” Sendak snapped his teeth and bit down against his skin, earning a buck of the slave's hips. He could have just said he wanted sex. Damn humans.

 

-

 

Ulaz could feel how closely Shiro kept to his side as they moved through the labs. The arm had sustained some damage from the arena – likely due to how much he kept using it in place of the sword – and the High Priestess wanted to inspect it herself. Although he had the inhibitor on, Ulaz wanted to keep as far away from the prosthetic as he could. He could subdue Shiro still if need be, but if he was sans inhibitor, blood would be drawn, and if how Shiro fought in the arena was an indicator as to how he would be completely unhindered, he wasn't sure _how much_ blood there would be. He stopped outside a room, pressing his hand to a panel. “Remember to be silent and behave,” his gaze hardened as he looked to Shiro, who gave a curt nod. He exhaled and let himself be pushed through the door.

 

“Officer Hepta, strap the slave down and strip it. Sedate if it does not comply.” Haggar motioned for Ulaz to come to her as she tapped her claws over the display, bringing up a set of schematics. “Is this the current design, High Priestess?”  
“Yes,” she muttered, her attention on the details in front of her. Ulaz studied the schematics, although would prefer to have them on-hand. “Your work is remarkable,” he moved closer, pointing his finger at the complex network of wires, “that's to replicate the nerves? And these here, is that...” he trailed off, eyes narrowing. “They are quintessence cells. This part in the hand is what super-heats it.”  
“Is this why his quintessence levels remain above-average?”  
“Yes.” She pushed herself away from the display and moved over towards Shiro, quietly watching from the table he was strapped to.

 

“You will observe, Officer Hepta,” she ignored the salute and glanced back at the medical officer, still stood at the terminal. “I require your presence here.” She turned her attention down to the slave, briefly taking note of the wounds yet to be healed. It was a hardy creature – much more so then she had expected compared to the other specimens they had obtained. She pressed her hand against the metal, the magic she possessed coursed through her body as she disseminated it through the arm. The slave writhed in its tethered state, making small noises, as the metal detached itself. Haggar scowled, catching it's face. “Silence. Be grateful you are worth repairing, or have this arm in the first place.”

 

Shiro couldn't help but watch as Ulaz and the witch, because a priestess was something completely different in his book, stripped back the arm to what he presumed was the basic structure. It didn't feel pain, otherwise he wouldn't be able to fight the way he did, but with the witch fiddling about with the intricate 'wiring', he felt nothing but discomfort and he couldn't understand why. “There's a hairline crack here.” Ulaz tilted a piece of the metal in his hand, showing the witch. Her glowing eyes narrowed and she sniffed. “Use the precision instruments.”  
“Should it not be replaced?”  
“It will hold. It depends upon the outcome of the matches.”  
“Of course.”  
“I am thinking,” she started, as she rotated the hand, “there are parts of the design that could be refined. I have basic schematics developed for another.”  
“I am sure it will continue to surpass all expectations.” Shiro tilted his head to watch Ulaz; it was terrifying how at ease he was here.

 

It took four vargas for them to fix the arm and run diagnostic tests. The witch stalked over to the terminal, Ulaz in tow, as they discussed technical information, while Hepta approached to undo the restraints. “Hi, by the way.” He whispered. Shiro offered him a small smile as he felt the clothes bundled into his lap. “You're making me feel cold all naked like that,” he glanced over at the witch, “sorry, I'm at work and I've got more projects. We'll have to see each other once you get through the matches.”  
“I'm gonna kick Champion's ass,” Shiro quickly muttered, pushing his arm through the hole. Hepta bit his lip, “I hope you kill him like you do your opponents.”  
“Victory or death, right?”

 

Ulaz approached, and Shiro looked up at his unreadable expression. “I need to take a look at your wounds. Follow,” Shiro nodded and pushed himself from the table, flexing the metal fingers. Thankfully, it all felt it was in working order. He bowed to Hepta and the witch, before following Ulaz. It didn't take long for them to reach the usual room, and like always, he was ushered in. As the door closed, Shiro turned to watch Ulaz lock it from the inside. He licked his lips absently as Ulaz let out a long sigh. “Let's get you checked ove-” Shiro pulled Ulaz towards him, bringing his head down. “S-Shiro!” He hissed, pulling up and holding him by the shoulders.

 

“Sorry, I-” Ulaz gently pressed their lips together to halt his words. He brushed his fingers over the skin, before pulling back. “It's awkward here.”  
“I just...I don't know if we'll be able to again.”  
“Are you worried you'll not make it?”  
“I'm starting to fear losing – being humiliated again.”  
“I've seen how you fight in the arena a little, you will be fine.”  
“He's fast and strong.”  
“You're faster and stronger now. I'm not comfortable wishing death upon others, but you will succeed.”  
“I've got a resolve now – a reason to fight.”  
“That's good,” Ulaz licked his forehead, “I'm glad you've found it.”  
“Y-Yeah,” his skin dusted with a faint blush, “can we? Please.” Shiro rested his hands on Ulaz's hips, “you make me feel like I can,” he swallowed, “do anything. Seeing you, being around you makes my chest tighten up in a way I've not felt for a long time.” He looked up, then away as the blush darkened. “There's feelings here – feelings I shouldn't have for you.” He tore himself away, running a hand through his hair as he moved towards the table. “I'm sorry.”

 

Ulaz closed the distance between them. He gently placed Shiro on top of the table and brought his head to rest in his chest. “That took courage to admit,” Ulaz soothed, running his fingers through Shiro's hair. “So I owe you the same openness,” he tilted Shiro's face up, tenderly stroking his cheek, “I have my own affections for you, and would keep you as far from harms way if I possibly could. I can only apologise I can't keep you safer or give you a better life than this.” Shiro shivered in his chest. “Like yourself, perhaps I have found feelings where I shouldn't. You are, after all, my patient.”  
“Do you think you could stay as my healer?” Shiro's arms grew tight around him. “I'll do my best, but sometimes orders change.” He felt the body slowly relax. “Kiss me.”  
“Certainly.”

 

Shiro let Ulaz push him down to the table and climb up between his thighs. Their kisses were soft and gentle as he wrapped his arms around Ulaz's neck, moaning quietly against his mouth.  
“This isn't how I'd want to do this.”  
“Same. I'll be quiet, but please, just make me feel good.”  
“I'll do my best,” Ulaz kissed his neck, loosening the fabric tie around Shiro's waist. The fabric fell back against the table, exposing the flesh that Ulaz softly kissed and sucked at as he worked his way down his body. “It'll have to be quick. We don't have time on our side,” he muttered. Shiro arched his back, splaying his legs out. “Let's make it worth it then.”

 

He was biting his finger, trying to stifle his voice, as Ulaz teased Shiro's head with his tongue. He took him in his mouth, carefully scissoring his entrance with three fingers. He'd been grateful he had some lube in his bag, even if it wasn't much. “P-Please!” Shiro choked out, gazing down with that pretty pink blush covering his face. Ulaz swallowed, feeling Shiro quiver from the movement. He unfastened the back of his half-apron and let it fall to the floor as he made quick work of the clasps at the base of his body suit. The tension dissipated as he eased his cock free. Shiro pushed himself up, and Ulaz let him take his cock slowly down to the hilt, content noises vibrating in his throat. It was quick but passionate as they stole the dobosh's away.

 

Shiro held his legs against his chest as Ulaz eased himself in steadily. He bit down again on his fingers, curbing back the moans he so desperately wanted to make and the name he wanted to call for. Ulaz laced his long arms under his body, holding him close as he leaned over the table, before starting off with measured thrusts. They both made sharp gasps, choosing to muffle them back by kissing again. Shiro wrapped his legs around Ulaz's waist, holding himself as tight as he could against the warm body above him. “You're so gentle and,” he took in a sharp breath, “good.” Ulaz's response was teeth brushing against his neck. “Like this you feel warm - wonderful around me,” Ulaz offered, glancing down and burying his face in Shiro's neck, taking in his scent. “You still smell intoxicating.”  
“ _Fuck_.” Shiro gripped his legs together harder as Ulaz's pace picked up. “I'm sorry, but I must.”  
“Keep doing that. Ah - there, _there_.” Shiro covered his mouth with his hand, and grabbed his own leaking cock with his other as the internal heat and stimulation became too much to just leave. His breathing became more and more laboured as he suppressed the cries, until he let out a sharp whine as Ulaz bit into his clavicle again. He felt fingers press and stroke against his hardness as Shiro dug his teeth into his lip, eyes screwed tightly shut, as he came over his stomach. Ulaz purred and kissed him, finally finishing himself buried within Shiro's heat. “Let's do this again,” Ulaz licked against Shiro's lips, peppering soft kisses against his jawline, “especially when you come through the matches. I've faith in you.”

 

-

 

“ **What're you doing?”  
** “ **Trying to focus,”** the slave cracked an eye open at Sendak from the side of the pool. **“You're very fond of sitting here, aren't you?”  
** “ **I like the pool, and that,”** he flopped back and pointed up at the ceiling, the stars moving steadily along as Sendak glanced up. **“I forget it is there.”  
** “ **You said this was your clan home. How long has it been here?”  
** “ **Since my sister was born.”  
** “ **You have siblings? Do you see them much?”  
** “ **No, they are deceased.”  
** “ **So you have no living family?”  
** “ **No,”** Sendak laid back, resting his head under his arm. **“That constellation above us is called _Rorvok_.”  
** “ **Were they anyone special?”  
** “ **Supposedly an ancient god who erected the rocky spires around our planet, separating the northern and southern hemispheres.”  
** “ **Which part did you live on?”  
** “ **The northern territories.”  
** “ **Do you miss your planet?”  
**“ **Do you miss yours?”** Sendak tilted his head to the side, watching his slave shrug. **“Yes and no.”**

 

-

 

The concept of Zarkon _holding_ a party was a headache to think about. The prospect of him _enjoying_ one was another matter. Shiro stood alongside the other gladiators, watching as Zarkon's slaves wandered freely around the hall serving drinks. They were scantily clad compared to the gladiators, who'd all been dressed up for such an occasion. It was posturing, plain and simple. Like Ladnok's party, they were poked and prodded by different Galra, however the only reprieve was that hands weren't tracing between his thighs or around his rear. He scoured the room for Sendak and found him stood addressing some commanders he didn't recognise. He was at least spending some time away from Zarkon. Zarkon himself was back on his throne, smoothing his hand through a concubine's thick head of hair. Another two were settled between his thighs, and Shiro looked away. He didn't need to have seen that; _think_ what they were up to. He focused on Serkdra's tail flicking about, watching the purple light reflect off her scales. It would at least keep his eyes busy for maybe quarter of a varga. He was bored shitless and thirsty.

 

The 'entertainment' for the evening was about as much as he expected. The room stank of sex, but he was content enough to watch, but only on the basis that gladiators were exempt from the 'festivities'. It was a pre-title match party of sorts, which is why they were all here, and it felt good not having to lay on his back and just take whatever was pushed into him. Having said that, he couldn't deny the noises and images in weren't stimulating. He swallowed to moisten his throat, pushing down the arousal in his gut that pressed and twitched against the fabric. He hadn't seen Sendak, and if he was involved like many of the other Galra were, it was again another thing that wouldn't surprise him at this point. Still, he didn't want to search him out – didn't want to see him fucking something else. He clenched his jaw, Sendak was _his_ Commander. He glanced around for the umpteenth time this evening, eyes settling on what he didn't want to see. His eye twitched in frustration; he wanted this evening over _now_. The tiniest growl escaped his lips, and he felt Serkdra's tail press against the back of his knee. “Calm yourself.”

 

“Follow me, and stop looking so sour.” Sendak clicked his claws. The slave moved fluidly towards him, letting a breath out. Sendak placed his hand on his shoulder, and steered up towards the throne. Zarkon stood, and motioned for them to follow along with a pair of collared slaves. His Emperor had requested his presence again, and he was uncertain whether it would be for work or pleasure; either one would be welcomed. He squeezed his slave's rear, smoothing a finger through the fabric as they walked. He chuckled, hearing him make the tiniest of squeaks. He leaned down as they stopped for an elevator, “ _someone's_ been giving off a lot of pheromones for a good part of the evening. Are you that desperate?” Sendak licked his ear. The slave quivered, but pressed himself back against his finger, “I just want to please my Commander,” he whispered, glancing up with a fire in his eyes, “and loyally cater to his every need.” Sendak felt his gut stir. “I do like when you talk like this.” He pressed his finger inside, curling it and watching his slave's eyelids flutter.

 

Shiro's eyes wandered around the quarters; it was huge. Not as lavish as he expected, but practical. The architecture was sharp and angular, and the lights above his head were mesmerising as they changed between a soft purple and pink hue. He was guided and pushed down to sit between Sendak's legs. He leaned into his thigh instinctually, watching the other two slaves sit nervously either side of Zarkon's feet. They looked at him, the fear apparent in their eyes. Shiro tried to offer a reassuring smile, but he wasn't sure if it would be much help. He didn't know what Zarkon was like, and he was quite content in not knowing.

 

“I have summoned my wayward son for the proceeding tournament.” Zarkon clicked his claws, and one of the slaves rose. “Bring us drinks.” He rumbled. The slave bowed and hastily moved away, stumbling over their own feet. Zarkon buried his hand in the silky hair of the remaining one, kneading it within his claws. “I suspect he will continue to embarrass and disappoint me.”  
“It's the dirtied blood.” He watched Sendak absently toy with the slave's braid. “The Altean in him taints his Galran heritage.”  
“It fills me with contempt that he would fill his quintants' mindlessly obsessing over that cancerous race, even after their destruction.”  
“I still recall it,” Sendak rested his face in his palm. Zarkon loosened a dark bark of laughter, taking the glass handed to him. “Dreams of _him_ dying by my hand as his palace burned still brings insurmountable pleasure to me.”  
“For me, it was watching their planet splinter apart. Your divine retribution is forever justifiable.” Zarkon nodded his head slowly, placing his glass down. He clicked his claws, both slaves turning to look at him. “Rise and sit,” he patted his thighs. They rose to his command and settled against him. Zarkon slipped his hands around their waists, pushing the fabric up and tracing his claws over their hips. “You may indulge yourself as you see fit.” He nodded to Sendak, pointing a claw at the impassive gladiator at his feet.

 

Shiro didn't even need to be commanded, which seemed to please Sendak. He actually didn't want to watch Zarkon finger his slaves – their faces made him sick. It was a reminder of the early days – a reminder of what he probably should still be like if he wasn't so depraved. It didn't matter in the end, Sendak's company could be enjoyable, and the arena gave him something to do. There was also Ulaz. He frowned as he pressed his teeth against the ridges, digging them in sharply. He wasn't used to having strong feelings for multiple people. He forced it from his mind – trying to understand his own feelings for Sendak was hard and too much effort. He raked his teeth over each individual ridge, hearing the low growl from above. “Good boy.” Shiro's lips tugged into a small smile as he soothed the marks he'd left with his tongue.

 

Sendak proffered the glass to the slave as he pushed him from his cock, trails of saliva and precome glittering in the light, before snapping as he licked his lips. The slave studied the glass, then Sendak's face. “Am I allowed, Commander?”  
“You are,” Sendak grinned as he reached out, “ahh, but allow me.” He clicked his claws and slowly, the slave eased each hand in front of him, like an animal, as he climbed from the floor. Sendak took him by the hair, tilting his head back as he slowly trickled the drink into his open mouth. Some of the red liquid splashed against his swollen lips, and he couldn't help but purr, smearing it into his skin with a clawed thumb. Sendak knocked the rest of it back, tilting his head as he let his gaze trail down over his body. He was quite attractive now he wasn't as scrawny, he supposed. “He is more submissive then what the videos suggest.”  
“He is, my Emperor.”  
“Show me more, let me see how you have re-educated him.” Zarkon motioned for his slaves to watch, and Sendak nodded as he pushed the slave's hair away from his eyes. “You heard the Emperor, slave.”

 

Shiro straddled Sendak's waist as he loosened the sides of his armour. He unfastened the front slowly until it hung around his shoulders, falling as he rolled them back. Sendak's organic eye widened for just a tick, and Shiro took his organic hand in both of his, drawing it up to his chest. “My entire being belongs to you to shape or break as you see fit, my Commander,” he held his gaze with Sendak as he ground his hips against his cock, offering him a private smirk, “so _please_ ,” he leaned forward into the hand, mouth near his ear, “what are your orders, _sir_?” There was a brief pause.  
“On your knees.”  
He dropped to them obediently, looking up eagerly.  
“Turn to face our Emperor.”  
Shiro turned, glancing up to the three sets of eyes on him. He kept his features composed, even if Zarkon's eyes made him internally squirm.

 

Shiro's face hit the floor, the boot pressing hard into the space between his shoulder blades. He felt Sendak push the material away from his hips; the weight on his shoulders increasing. “Open yourself thoroughly.” Shiro watched him from the corner of his eye pull out a tiny bottle of lube and set it in his hand. “Spare us no noises, slave.” Sendak didn't remove his foot like Shiro was hoping. He looked at the lube, then the Commander. “Of course, sir.”

 

The slave did as he was told. He raised his ass high and eased two fingers in with no issue. He quickly added another two. Impressed with his tenacity, Sendak had given his spine reprieve to compress his throat on and off, enjoying how he wheezed and rasped in pleasure and discomfort. “Commander, I think the poor creature's throat must be quite dry with all the noise he's made.” Zarkon rumbled as he picked up the bottle. “I suppose that is true. Well?” Sendak pushed his foot down. The slave cracked out a rasped reply, casting Sendak a heady look. This was unexpected. He released his throat and grabbed the slave's ankles, lifting and flipping him around with ease. He dragged the slave back towards the chair as he settled, pulling him up until he leaned on his shoulders, back curved against his legs. He pushed his thighs down, running a finger from the piercing all the way round to the slick hole. The slave whimpered as he pushed himself against the touch. Sendak reached for his glass.

 

“Allow me, Commander.” Zarkon rose, the two slaves scrambling off his thighs to settle beside his chair once more, with the bottle in hand. He looked down at the slave, panting up at him. “Drink,” he raised the bottle and the contents poured, splashing over his face. He let out a low growl as the red liquid stained against his skin. He moved over the slave and pressed his claws into the slick hole. It was warm and pliable. Scissoring it open roughly, he tipped the bottle again and allowed a small portion of the contents to pour inside. That would be enough. He pulled away, placing it beside Sendak's empty glass. “Fuck your animal.” Zarkon resettled himself, narrowing his eyes at the slave's contorting body. It seemed like it was in pain.

 

As commanded, Sendak pushed himself into Shiro. He growled in pain, trying to pull away. It stung; the alcohol burned his insides and he was scared. He needed to get up from this position, let whatever was inside run out of him. He scrabbled at the floor but was unable to get purchase as the Commander leaned down over him, digging his organic claws into his shoulder and using his prosthetic ones to hold him in place. “Still.” Shiro, reluctantly, did. He watched through eyes that grew hazier by the tick as Sendak would push down to his prostate, then all the way out. Again and again he kept up this strange pace, swearing the golden eye staring at him wasn't blinking.

 

The position was a good one, but awkward. He hoisted the slave up in to his lap, feeling whatever liquid was in there leak out. He reinserted himself and dug his claws into his bruised hips, piercing the skin, as he sharply thrust upwards, earning a desperate noise from the slave as he fell limp against his chest. “Comman'er,” he murmured, groggily staring up at him. “Make me scream,” the slave's hands fumbled blindly to hold his shoulders. Sendak purred in his ear, “that was my intention. You've been a very good boy.”

 

The slave screamed Sendak's title over and over until he passed out, which didn't take long. Sendak continued until he came, absently cutting lines into his back. The red blood was an incredibly beautiful colour. “Clean him thoroughly,” he looked to the two rigid slaves at his feet, clicking his claws to grab their attention. They looked up at him, pupils wide in fear and revulsion. “This gladiator, this _beast_ , acts much like a whore, doesn't it?” They cautiously nodded at him. “You will be expected to act like this and what you saw earlier. Deviations from my expectations of loyalty and commitment will result in execution. This gladiator has already done the job once,” his lips curled upwards, “and is competent at it.” He glanced up to watch Sendak clean the slave's hole carefully. He would see to it Sendak was rewarded later.

 

“You two will tend to the gladiator while the Commander and I are occupied. Under no circumstances are we to be disturbed.” Zarkon rose and placed his hand on Sendak's shoulder. “Follow.” The slaves bowed as the two Galra moved towards another room. They'd heard about this one from some of the older concubines; you only went there if Zarkon was in a particularly torturous mood, and it didn't matter if he presented as foul or even-tempered. Every single one of them had the same shoulder-to-hip scar.  
“At least it's not just us.”  
“No.”  
“Do you think we should help it?” They pushed their dark hair away from their face, glancing over the gladiator.  
“Yeah, but...I'm _scared_. I don't want to end up worse then that, but I don't want to be dead.”  
“Yeah...let's try focus on this mess here first. Can you help me take it to the bathroom?” Their fellow concubine nodded slowly, and they hoisted the gladiator's sweaty dead weight up. “Do you think they all break?”  
“I don't know how they couldn't.”

 

-

 

“Where're we?” Shiro tried to push himself up but his limbs felt too weak. He squinted at Sendak, who pulled him by the arm up against his thigh. “The Emperor's quarters.” He smoothed his hand into Shiro's hair. “Are you delicate?”  
“I feel dronk-drunk.”  
“I'm not surprised.” Sendak tilted his chin up – his eyes looked a tad brighter than normal. “Turn your eyes down,” Shiro grunted, burying his face in Sendak's leg. “Why naked?”  
“Why do you think?”  
“Didja share me with the Emperor?” He tugged gently at the shorter purple fur. “After you woke up after the first time, yes. You did as the Emperor commanded, and you have made me very proud. You did not take him within here,” Sendak stroked his ass cheek for emphasis. “At least not yet.”  
“Izzit why my mouth horts-hurts?”  
“Likely. You choked a few times.” Sendak finally lifted him into his lap and ran his claws along his neck.

 

“When we return to my quarters, we shall rest for the quintant.”  
“That'd be nice,” Shiro flopped into his broad chest, pushing his hands behind his back. He frowned, pulling one back. “Blood?”  
“Nothing to concern yourself with.”  
“Your scar?” Sendak's exasperated breath was hot against his head. “It is a gift from the Emperor for pleasing him. Your concern is noted.”  
“Mmm,” Shiro was feeling light-headed. “I like it when you hurt me,” he felt himself melt into the warmth, “do it more, mmkay?”

 

-

 

“ **I'd rather be training some more with you.”** Shiro flopped down onto the final sofa he'd moved. They had guests coming, and he wasn't in the mood for whoever these surprise visitors were. He hoped if he had to entertain, it would just be riding Sendak. **“We may have lost a quintant, however I am confident you will come away victorious. Besides which, this relates to your surprise, and I think you may be quite pleased.”** Shiro cocked an eyebrow from the sofa. **“I do like more things then dick.”** Sendak barked out a harsh laugh, grinning over at him, **“I can assure you that is not it, unless you are demanding of it later.”** Shiro rested his face in his palm, gazing at him, **“well that would depend on whether I've been a 'good boy'.”** Sendak laughed again, tilting his face up. **“With how you have been lately, I imagine you will continue to be.”**

 

“ **You have visitors.”** Sendak stood in the doorway, watching the slave place the tablet down into the blankets. **“Am I...okay?”  
** “ **You look presentable.”  
** “ ** _Presentable_. Good.”  
** “ **Have you been amusing yourself with animal videos again?”  
**“ **No, looking at old photos.”** The slave smoothed the robe's fabric out as they walked. He pressed his face against the prosthetic arm, and Sendak gently nudged him away. **“You are a gladiator. You do not need to fulfil the remit of a pleasure slave this evening. You are strong, do not forget that.”** The slave stopped, looking up at him like he was about to say something. He took a deep breath and brought himself up to full height, cracking his knuckles. **“Thank you, Commander.”**

 

Shiro was surprised to see Ulaz there, along with Haxus and a few other Galra he recognised – some he didn't. He crossed his arm across his chest and bowed to them courteously, and waited for Sendak to settle on the sofa, patting the space next to him. Shiro moved and settled with as much dignity as he could, somewhat perplexed by the situation. **“I see you have the translators off again?”** Haxus looked over to Sendak, who nodded curtly. **“Well, hopefully your dear gladiator will understand what we have to say.”** Haxus offered him a wide grin and reached around the side of the sofa to pull out a bag. He rose from his seat and walked towards Shiro, placing it at his feet. **“We pooled our GAC together, and the crew have brought you this for your fights in two quintants' time. All of us trust the Commander with our lives,”** he looked back at the others, who all nodded, **“and even though he's a grumpy bastard nine times out of ten, we know that we can count on him, and he counts on us. So, to avoid our dear Commander's furious wrath when he's in a sour mood,”** Haxus grinned at Sendak, who merely responded with a grunt, **“we thought you might need some sturdier armour rather then a flimsy body suit or whatever impractical armour the Commander is fond of.”** There were a few laughs, and Shiro was surprised with how well Sendak took it. He'd never seen him around the rest of his crew except during his escape attempt.

 

“ **So, I, the wonderful Lieutenant Haxus, naturally orchestrated this entire thing. The Commander gave me your measurements, Ulaz here knows what bits of you need protecting since aside from the Commander, I suspect you live with him.”** Shiro shot Ulaz a quick glance, he sat looking as calm as ever, even slightly amused. **“Officers Kaliv and Yarvag's mother is an armour crafter, Intelligence Officer Vorak, Officer Balkov, and Navigator Ivran spent _vargas_ combing through information we had about Earthling armour types, while the others here gathered materials for the armour crafter.” **He motioned to the rest of the crew, who either nodded or gave him a lazy wave. Haxus stepped away, placing his hands behind his back, **“you may have been an absolute little dreck at times-”  
**“ **Like when he kicked you in the dick and got away.”** Sendak smirked at him, and this earned a few chuckles. **“I suppose that might have happened,”** Haxus sniffed, **“but no, you may have been a dreck and a stubborn idiot, but you fight and embrace the mantra of victory or death. You're a pleasure to watch in the arena, and we cannot wait to see you crush your enemies and reclaim your title. I suppose on a final note,”** and he looked purposefully at Sendak when he said it, one of those shit-eating grins on his face like a Cheshire cat, **“we do enjoy you keeping the Commander's attention and frustrations at bay. This is the least we could do.”** Haxus caught the gauntlet in both hands, bracing himself as Sendak gave him dark smirk.

 

“ **Can we not punch the crew members, Commander? I already have enough work on my plate.”** Shiro blinked at Ulaz, who'd chosen to join in. **“Have I lost so much respect because I have been stationed off the ship?”** Sendak cracked his organic knuckles, **“Or do I need to teach you all who is in charge?”  
**“ **I think Lieutenant Haxus might enjoy that,”** Ulaz offered Haxus a sheepish grin as Sendak rose to his feet. **“Well, perhaps the Lieutenant and I can have a quick spar, and then we drink?”** Sendak pulled Haxus off towards the training room, and Shiro motioned for them to follow.

 

The match didn't last long, like always. Ulaz kept as close as he reasonably could to Shiro, who seemed to be in a pleasant mood as they watched a few of the others spar against Sendak. It was how he liked to bond with his crew; through battle. If he didn't have such a cruel side to his nature, which according to Kolivan hadn't always been the case, there may've be some hope for him. Ulaz had put it down to Zarkon's mentorship, but the nature of that relationship was a complete mystery to him except for the few hints he'd seen over the deca-phoebs that there was something _off_ about how he acted after seeing the Emperor. For a few quintants, he would be in what he could only describe as a good mood, even when he would wince or seem unsteady on his feet.

 

They headed back after a while and the carousing commenced soon after Shiro was fitted into his armour. As suspected, it fit. The armour had a basis in human design, but very much Galran in aesthetic. The black and purple strangely suited him, and for a brief moment Ulaz wondered what he'd look like donned in the armour of the Blades. He leaned back in his seat, the interim medical officer sat beside him scrolling through a data pad. **“You can leave your work for now, we can focus on that tomorrow.”  
** “ **Apologies!”  
**“ **Here, drink this.”** Ulaz passed them a glass, **“try and enjoy yourself tonight. The fights will be keeping your busy afterwards, and I will need all the assistance I can get.”** He glanced briefly at Shiro, who was leaning over the table arm wrestling with Vorak.

 

After Haxus and Ulaz bade them farewell, Sendak picked up his rather drunk slave. **“You look ready to sleep.”  
** “ **I'm slep.”** He brushed his fingers over Sendak's mouth and around to his ear, scratching it hard. **“Soft.”  
** “ **I'm glad you find it soft.”  
** “ **Too dronk 'gain. Need,”** the slave tried to lean round to grab at Sendak's groin but missed and swatted at his abdomen. **“You are not too delicate?”  
** “ **No. Erryone's been...nice. Why're they nice?”  
** “ **We have faith in you to succeed, and know you can. You would have been killed if the Emperor thought you weak.”** Sendak placed him down in the sheets and slowly removed the armour, the slave playfully batting at him. **“You forever amuse me with your behaviour.”  
**“ **C-Can you,”** the slave started, grabbing his prosthetic arm with his own, **“do gentler tonight? It nice,”** he slurred, letting his head roll to the side. **“As I said, you amuse me.”** He traced his organic hand down the slave's defined abdomen, resting it on the side of his thigh.

 

-

 

“ **I have something for you before we leave.”** Sendak motioned Shiro towards the room at the back of the atrium. He set his shoulder bag down, following quickly as Sendak stopped at the wall. Shiro paused on the threshold as he carefully took one of the swords down and turned back towards him. **“Here, slave.”** Shiro moved, standing in front of him. **“When I first became a Commander, this was what I received as a gift when I departed from the Royal Guard.”** His cybernetic eye looked like it glowed brighter. **“Your fighting style with a sword suits this blade, so as my gift to you, I would like you to use this.”  
** “ **Commander, I...I can't accept this gift. I'm grateful, but it's important to you, I can't-”  
** “ **You will.”** Shiro snapped to attention. **“You will use this sword and slay your enemies. I am placing my trust in you to wield it, and to come back to me alive. You will then,”** Shiro took the sword that was thrust into his hands, and watched with baited breath as Sendak pulled the collar from behind him, holding it up above Shiro's reach, **“have earned my trust enough to be reunited with what you desire.”  
** “ **C-Commander-”  
** “ **Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane, stand to attention,”** Shiro fell into position, saluting Sendak, **“as your Commander, I _order_ you to win these matches. If you refuse or consider giving up, You will force my hand to take action.” **Shiro's eyes widened at the implication. **“N-no, no you _can't_.”  
** “ **I _will_. You begged for my help, and aside from what else you agreed to, I have found something that will certainly keep you focused – it is a weakness I will exploit.” **Sendak brushed the metal against his face. **“Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane, will you come back victorious?”  
** “ **Y-yes, Commander.”  
**“ **Then** ,” Sendak leaned down, brushing his lips against Shiro's, **“Vrepit Sa.”**

 

It had been vargas since Sendak had dropped him off. He told Shiro he had join the Emperor in meeting the Prince, then escort him through Central Command. He'd kissed him again when they entered his cell, and Shiro had been touching his lips on and off all evening. His ears pricked when he heard a knock at the door. He pushed himself from the cot and wandered over, opening it to find Zestera staring up at him with dark bruises and a deep cut over their face. Shiro pulled them in, moving them to the cot. “What's happened? Who did this to you?”  
“Mistress did.”  
“Why? Why would she?”  
“If we fight, can you kill me?”  
“What?”  
“Just...I can't any more. I'm done.” They lifted what little remained of their tail. “I said no more. No more hallucinations. She cut it off. Shiro, it's fucked my balance up.” Shiro gently took the tail in his hands, wincing at the the serrated cut. “I'm...sorry. You can't give up though, think about your freedom-”  
“It won't happen. They're not doing it like they used to.”  
“What do you mean?” Shiro bit his lip as Zestera awkwardly played with their fingers. “They _used_ to keep the gladiators alive after each battle unless it was the final. They aren't doing that this deca-phoeb.”  
“What...what're you saying?”  
“Unless your Commander wants you alive, or the witch, you're just another corpse on the pile.” Zestera looked up briefly. “I'm dead.”  
“But...you fight well?”  
“Against you, the dragon-freak and Champion? I'm dead, Shiro, I'm dead and have no say in it unless I die on my own terms.”  
“No, you'll be alright.” Shiro gripped their shoulders and pulled them in for a hug. “You might be a grumpy shit, but you're my friend.”

 

“This is going to be weird but...could you...do something for me?” Zestera pushed themselves away, toying with the body suit they sat in. “Can...I...uh, don't know how to ask...would you do the thing with...that.” They motioned vaguely at his crotch. Shiro's brow creased as he bit his lip. “Are you sure you should?”  
“For the past ten deca-phoebs, I've been raped and used for my ability,” they scratched their arm, “and for my last day alive, I just...wanted to feel good with someone who...bothered,” they looked at him cautiously. “But you could say the same about me, when you used the hallucinogenics to help me.”  
“I...didn't mind so much, okay? Shit, I don't _like_ talking about this. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked-” Shiro pressed his lips against Zestera's, drawing them back into another hug. “You're not going to die. You're gonna be okay. The Galra are petty, and once you get your ass outta here, you can go find that planet you said about.”  
“What about you?”  
“I don't think Sendak will let me die.”  
“How can you be so certain?” Zestera's eyes were trained on him. Shiro exhaled and pressed their foreheads together, “I'm certain, because the Emperor gifted me to him, and so I guess it would be if the Emperor wishes me dead.” He closed his eyes and held Zestera tighter. He didn't need to know about Sendak's threats.

 

“Follow me.” Zestera pushed Shiro off and grabbed his wrist, dragging him through the cell door. The hallways were quiet, but it would be lock up soon. “We've maybe got half a varga, and I'd rather be in my room.” They muttered as they rounded a corner, coming to a dead stop. Shiro caught himself against the wall, eyes widening in horror. “Good evenin', where might you two be headin' so late and in a hurry, hm?” His ears perked up as he moved forward, the red cybernetic eye glowing dangerously. “Nowhere!” Zestera bit. Ranveig hoisted them from the floor by the throat, tugging curiously at the lack of tail. “That's a bother,” his gaze flicked to Shiro then back to Zestera. “I know you're lyin'. I should punish two _uncollared_ slaves myself, however,” he grabbed Shiro and dragged him by the fringe through the cell door he was stood by. He launched him to the hard floor, Shiro rolling until he hit the wall. He glowered up as Ranveig dropped Zestera and cocked his head over to the cot, “which one, Champion?” He felt his insides freeze up as he inched his head up to see Nadiva sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes cast over him. “Would it be acceptable to ask for both, Warlord Ranveig?”  
“So long as you are willing to share.” Shiro watched like a deer in the headlights as the two glanced at each other, then Nadiva at him as he slipped from the cot.

 

As the distance – which wasn't much – decreased between them, Shiro watched the appendage unfurl. “I do wish I'd been _consulted_ ,” it stabbed into the wall beside his head, “about my other appendage being taken to the witch. It would also have been _appreciated_ ,” Shiro just managed to spread his legs apart in time for it to hit the floor, “to know my natural aphrodisiac was made into a synthetic drug.” He stopped between Shiro's legs, pushing his foot into his shoulder. “I blame you, and your Commander for this.” Shiro's scream of agony was muffled by two hands over his mouth, the pitch faltered as he felt his body heat up uncomfortably. “Since you take it so well, I thought why not go straight for where you'd _hate_ to feel it most? You, you insignificant dreck of a whore, won't be getting any sleep. Just like your friend.” Shiro's gaze wouldn't move from glaring at Nadiva, but he _heard_ the muffled screech of pain from Zestera.

 

“We'll make some lovely memories together, since you seemed to have forgotten the ones we had before.” Nadiva ran his fingers over Shiro's lips slowly, before forcing them in.  
“Should I get comfortable?”  
“Yes, Warlord Ranveig. I do hope you will be recording this evening. I'm certain their Commanders would be _dying_ to know how this all came about,” Nadiva pushed Shiro to the ground, painfully grinding his foot between his thighs. Shiro heard Ranveig laugh and pull out his communicator. “Of course. You, Zestera, go assist Champion, or come here if you want to have your filthy holes filled.” Shiro watched Zestera climb into Ranveig's lap before biting down hard against his lips, drawing blood as he felt something sharp dig in to his ass. It felt like it would shred him apart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated writing the Zarkon and Shiro bit - not because of it being poured down his butt, but because it's a waste of alcohol and it was just like, me, write such /filth/???? Even though I've not batted an eyelid at 90% of this fic. I'm also sorry for Zestera and Shiro at the end. When will Sendak find out? Who will even alert him? Lotor's gonna be making his appearance soon ^^ and although he may not be hugely important yet, he will be about a bit later on. Also little Shiro is getting a bit possessive! Ayy.
> 
> Otherwise, next chapter is the beginning of murder time. The OCs are dying, folks, how many? Well.
> 
> I'm not sure how long it'll take me to write the next chapter, because I need to think how many fights I want to write, how the games work, do some research (which I can do at work tbh), and obviously write it. Nadiva's chapter may be separate to chapter 32, but it depends. I'm trying to keep the chapters condensed. See you all soon! Sheithy fic should be uploaded later tonight/tomorrow.


	32. Decimation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - this has been a REALLY hard chapter to do, and there's aspects I don't like about it, but honestly at this point I thought it's better to write it our and not nitpick myself into never finishing the chapter.
> 
> Fics already tagged for warnings, but this is a heavy violence chapter, there's...heavy angst I guess, and after what has been an earth year in space for Shiro, here's some more fun time effects for the lad. Take breaks if you need to (there's In Your Gravity out now which I mentioned last chapter, whoo).
> 
> Anyway, thank you for the kudos and comments ^^ and I hope you enjoy the murder chapter. Pretty much poor Shiro.

“It's really weird coming back here,” Ezor peered at Central Command, and then back at Lotor, who lounged in his chair.  
“Couldn't we just say we were busy _crushing_ our enemies?”  
“Sadly not, Zethrid,” Lotor chuckled as his gaze flicked back to his father's flagship. “I cannot abstain from my 'princely' duties.”  
“We won't be here for long though, right?”  
“Thankfully not. Just until these tedious battles are done with.”  
“Well I quite like them,” Zethrid grinned, “I'd love to get stuck in!”  
“You'd just murder the lotta them!” Ezor laughed, slapping Zethrid on the back affectionately. Lotor gave an amused chuckle, catching Axca's hard gaze. “What troubles you?”

 

“Well,” Axca tucked stray hairs behind her ear, “is there any intelligence you'd like us to gather for you while we're here?”  
“The usual,” Lotor rotated his wrist, “anything incriminating about my father's inner circle, information about the witch's plans, anything you can find at all. Ezor, I'll need your valuable skill set during our stay here.”  
“Aye-aye, Lotor,” she gave him a wide grin as she offered a bow. Axca rubbed the bridge of her nose, while Narti remained perched, petting Kova.

 

Lotor brought his gaze back to Central Command as the ship came in to dock, wrinkling his nose at the welcome party. Of course his father had sent _him_ ; he'd recognise that imposing gauntlet anywhere. “It seems we have the pleasure of Sendak's company for our stay. _Wonderful_.”  
“I could just beat the shit outta him.”  
“I fear that may not be in my, or your, best interests.” Lotor drawled as he rose, stretching out his body. “We can only hope he has better things to do then hound us all during our stay.”  
“Careful,” Ezor wagged her finger, “he might hear you with those giant ears of his.” She tugged at Zethrid's, who swiped playfully at her. From the corner, he could hear Axca sigh.

 

As the group stepped off the ship, Sendak moved forward with purpose. They were later then scheduled, which was usual for Lotor during events like this. “My apologies, Commander, we had to reroute due to unforeseen-”  
“Follow, _Prince_ Lotor.” Sendak turned on his heel, not waiting or caring if they could keep up. “The Emperor has instructed me that you are to be confined to your quarters until he requires your presence. Your Generals,” Sendak spat the word, “will be sheltered elsewhere.”  
“Are they not allowed free reign?”  
“Later.” Sendak glanced back at the entourage. It reminded him of when he had to watch Lotor when the Dayak was away.

 

The sentries led away his Generals, and Lotor was left with Sendak. “So,” Lotor started, “how does this crop of gladiators look to be this deca-phoeb?”  
“Mixed ability. The fights should be somewhat entertaining.”  
“Do you have any entered, Commander?”  
“One,” Sendak glared at him, “you do not keep track of the matches?”  
“No, I sadly have too much business to attend to,” Lotor offered him a patronising smile.

 

As they reached the door to Lotor's quarters, Sendak moved in front of it. “There is something I need to clarify with you.”  
“And what may that be, Commander?” It was a rarity, and oddity, that Sendak would ask him anything. Usually, he'd drop him off and leave. Amused, Lotor held the eye contact. “Am I correct in that you have recently taken charge of Kypedon and it's prison camp?”  
“You are.”  
“Have you received the prisoners yet?”  
“Yes, they have been accounted for.” Was he just making sure his Lieutenant had done his job? This was perhaps not as interesting as he'd hoped for. “So you have,” he pulled out his tablet and tilted it at Lotor, “this one?” Lotor took it from his hand and flicked his eyes over the details and then back at Sendak. “I do recall seeing him, yes.”  
“Depending on how the fights go, I would like to request that one.”  
“I did not think he would suit your tastes,” Lotor smirked as Sendak clenched his fist, “now, now, you should know better.”  
“You are a loathsome creature.”  
“If I considered you of any importance, your words may actually _sting_.” Lotor strode forward, head held high. “Why do you want access to this prisoner?”  
“My slave has requested it.” Sendak's eye narrowed. _Oh, oh this was very interesting now._ “When did _you_ ever care about your slaves?” In mock astonishment, Lotor placed his hand to his chest, “I cannot believe my father's right-hand has become so enamoured with a lowly slave. I will look forward to seeing it. You can have your answer after I assess it myself.” Lotor moved to stand millimetres away from Sendak. “Now, if you don't mind, I would appreciate freshening up prior to seeing my father.” Sendak's scowl twisted as he let out a sharp snarl, pushing past Lotor.

 

-

 

Shiro gave his stomach a few sharp punches, human hand barely bracing the wall as he tried to bring up everything he'd been forced to swallow. He still felt something in his stomach, and his fingers couldn't get any further down his throat. The strain of trying to be sick was hurting more then the burning feeling in his throat, and if he had to confess, more than the pain in his ass. He let himself fall back to the floor spread-eagle, staring blankly at the ceiling as static filled his ears and mind. In a sick and twisted way, the whole situation was hilarious. _It really isn't_. The accumulated abuse his body had experienced over the phoebs had reached the point it was _expected_. For all the roughness and pain they thought they'd given him, Sendak had put him through _worse_. Nothing was even broken.

 

He didn't realise he was laughing until he registered tears rolling down his cheeks. He laughed harder, the frenzied noises sounding more and more foreign as they escaped his lips. Shiro pushed his hands into his hair and curled his fingers in tightly. He shook his head, body twitching, as he ripped the strands away from his scalp. He could feel the wide grin on his face, and touched his torn lips with cold fingers leisurely. They _really_ thought this would break him? Oh no, _no_. This just gave him more reason. He clutched his stomach, sore from the punching and belly laughter, as he rolled over to his haunches. He looked down at his palms, clenching them tightly into fists. His eyes twitched as he imagined all the ways he could butcher Nadiva; it'd be almost poetic killing Ranveig's slave with Sendak's sword.

 

He pulled himself up using the side of the cot for leverage, tearing away the shreds of his body suit. He allowed the poison to course through his body and curdle in his stomach. Shiro's laughter stuttered from his chest as he braced the cot, the hand activating to warp the metal frame beneath it. He lacked the full awareness to understand what was snapping internally, but whatever it was, his body felt energised. It was like a primal desire for destruction overwhelmed his sense of self. Right now, it was probably what he needed.

 

-

 

“High Command have been requested to sit with the Emperor, so sadly we cannot enjoy the matches as a crew,” Sendak absently checked his claws as he leaned against the wall outside the throne room. “It turned out Ulaz is watching with a friend of his, but that's a shame. Well, a blessing for your poor damaged box.” He could hear Haxus's smirk. “I'm sure the crew will be fine enough company for you.”  
“Are you waiting for the brat Prince?”  
“I am. I feel like a glorified kit-sitter.”  
“I'll have to find you some more salted meats to cheer you up.”  
“It would be appreciated. Are you betting again?”  
“Already have. I placed my entire phoebs' salary on the slave taking the win.” Sendak snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are an absolute dreck at times.”  
“If I win, I'll make more than you.”  
“You would.” Sendak watched the door. “You'll see me shortly. Have they picked out the order?” There was a long pause.  
“It appears they are having a battle royale.” Sendak's ears perked up.  
“Then it has changed. Ah, I must go. We will speak later.” Sendak pulled himself to full attention as the doors opened and the guards moved out. Zarkon stepped through the door, followed by Haggar and then Lotor, a cut and dried blood over his lips. The Prince glared at the floor as they moved towards the arena.

 

-

 

The mood in the hall was sombre; the occupants forlorn or melancholic. Some toyed with their weapons just for something to do, others looked despondently at the ground, while some paced about agitated. Rudiarius had explained the situation to them fully, shocked by the change of play. Shiro didn't care. He'd win, because he was a _good boy_.

 

He stared off into the middle distance, briefly becoming aware of Rudiarius when she offered him a small arm band with a collection of beads dangling from it. “What is it?” He asked quietly, but with an edge of disdain. “An indicator of how many ya've slain in the arena,” She took his human arm and attached it to the leather pauldron. He watched her through sharp eyes as the beads caught the light. There were quite a few that hung there. “Fight with honour, Shiro,” she gently squeezed his shoulder as she pulled away. He caught his face reflected in the blade, expression inscrutable.

 

He let himself plunge back into the dark waters of his mind; the suppressed emotions and feelings coming for him like sharks as he sank into the depths. The inner voices were muffled against the pressure that felt like it could crush Shiro if he just let it. It'd be easier to not think, not question. Just do, and be, and live in the moment. He rotated the sword in his hands. When did he start looking this old? He tugged out the braid and redid it, thinking about Keith and his nickname for Shiro: old-timer. He mentally laughed – if only he knew what he'd been fucking and how old they were. They were true old-timers.

 

-

 

“It's time.”  
He looked up, pushing his fringe away, and nodded. The gladiator's rose and funnelled their way out the door onto the sands. The rhythmic shouting and chanting of different names filled his ears, and he could feel the fire in his chest burn as he looked at the backs of the others. They stopped in front of the royal box, Shiro noting Sendak and some pretty-looking white haired alien. They looked important to be sat up there, and young as well.

 

Zarkon stared down at the gladiators as they bowed low. “There are many of you – too many – this fight is to decrease your numbers. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, Emperor Zarkon.” They answered in unison. Zarkon lifted his head, addressing the peasantry, before turning his attention back down to the gladiators, who'd moved away to take their stances. Zarkon's eyes caught the sword in Sendak's slave's hand; his Commander may have become too mesmerised by the lowly creature – particularly his seductive ways. Both Haggar and Sendak wanted him alive, and for Haggar's plans, he would most certainly allow it if he came out victorious. “Two of you have been saved by your Commanders,” Zarkon pointed his fingers at Sendak's slave and, what would soon be Haggar's test subject for another of her experiments. The gladiators turned to those singled out. _Good_. He could feel the hatred and jealousy from his box. “Vrepit Sa.”

 

Shiro was set upon immediately. One gladiator – Leoire – rushed him with his sword. He parried the blow, the metal singing as it clashed together. He licked his lips, a sneer upon his face as he easily pushed him back. Leoire wasn't that tall or had as much bulk as the others, he was also still inexperienced. _At least it's a good warm up_. Shiro laughed as he swiped the sword to the side, leaning forward as his feet pounded over the sand. With a sharp turn and a push forward, he slashed the sword diagonally up with one hand. It was a glancing blow across the side of his ribs, but he supposed he had to draw it out. He back-pedalled away as Leoire whipped around, his own sword cutting a line through the fabric over Shiro's chest. He didn't draw blood. _A shame._

 

“ _Give me a challenge!_ ” Shiro snapped as he charged like an enraged bull. Leoire's brows creased darkly as he screamed, slashing wildly at empty space. Shiro growled in frustration; he was wasting energy slashing about like that. Shiro twisted his body around as he gripped the sword with two hands. He brought it up as Leoire's pointless slashing left him in a vulnerable spot with no defence. _What a complete dreck._ His face fell in disgust as he dragged the metal through the thin armour. It tore through the flesh from hip to shoulder. With his human hand Shiro grabbed his right wrist, holding it tight as he dragged the sword, that had lost the momentum over the collar bone, down through the chest. He could feel his lips tug into a warped grin as he forcibly rotated the blade like a corkscrew. The broken screams of agony were delightful to listen to. He could sing like this for Sendak the next time he was punished; perhaps he'd like that.

 

Shiro let his hand go from the handle, and with a fluid motion, brought his metal fist up under Leoire's jaw, sending the alien writhing and flailing to the floor. Shiro stepped over his thighs, twisting the blade further in. He tugged it out, and with a quick motion, punctured the stomach. The noise Leoire made was somewhere between a gasp and hack. Shiro pressed it in further and further until he felt a sudden jerk – he'd come out the other side. He pulled Sendak's blade out, and took the fallen one in the sand. Without paying much attention, he casually stabbed it through Leoire's throat and took stock of the rest of the arena.

 

Serkdra had somehow climbed one of the spires. She drew her head back, and something about the air changed around them. He felt his hair on the back of his neck stand on end, like static electricity was shocking him all over. He swore he just saw something flash around her body. With a mighty roar, she threw her head forward towards Azea, firing _fucking lightning_ out of her mouth. He watched Azea dance around the blasts with ease, a deranged smirk on her face as she picked up her claymore. “Get down here, wifey, time to finally settle this!” She lunged at the base of the spire, striking it with the claymore and leaving a notable impact crater.

 

-

 

“That was an unnecessary waste of energy.”  
“Yeah,” Thace took Ulaz's hand in his, squeezing it tight, “are you holding up?”  
“Just about, but he's...off. I'm sure he doesn't normally fight like this?”  
“Not usually this...sadistic,” Thace narrowed his eyes as Shiro leapt on another gladiator's back, sword in his left hand, the prosthetic hand activated. He couldn't hear the likely agonised screech that tore from the gladiator's lips, but how his body stumbled about and writhed made his stomach knot a tad as the glowing hand clawed burn marks into their face. His opponent dropped their weapon to tear it away, but toppled forward, Shiro's weight unbalancing his broken stance. Like most of the shouts and screams, the fights below were drowned out by the cacophony of the spectators; every emotion and feeling could be heard here.

 

He placed his hand reassuringly on Ulaz's thigh. “It's all just likely an act, you know?”  
“An act he shouldn't be preforming in the first place. It's wrong.”  
“I know.” They continued to watch, until he felt fingers tease through the fur on the back of his head. Ulaz leaned in, brushing his lips against his cheek, “I ask myself sometimes what we're doing. How is it ten thousand deca-phoebs later, and this still hasn't ended yet.” The tone was icy, cutting. Thace wasn't sure how to answer, except clench his thigh tighter.

 

-

 

“Shiro!”  
Shiro whipped his head around to find Zestera pointing the pole arm at him. Their expression was inscrutable as they advanced slowly. Shiro rose from the body at his feet and smeared the blood across the arm guard. “You're still alive.”  
“Just. I want to fight you.” There was no time to reply as Zestera thrust the pole arm out in quick succession. Shiro yanked his sword from the corpse as he dodged out of the way of the bladed end, a low growl escaping his lips as he raised the sword. He was at a disadvantage against such a long-reaching weapon, and Zestera was more than adept at using it.

 

“I want,” he pressed forward, thrusting the end, “to at least,” it retracted quickly to stab at his feet, “have one,” Shiro only just moved out of range, “decent fight,” it ghosted his side, “and be killed,” he felt the cold press of the spire behind him, “by someone not so _insane!_ ” Zestera's eyes were blown wide open as they thrust the blade towards his face. Shiro only just managed to move his head as it struck the spire behind him, his jaw clenched tightly shut as he watched Zestera's chest heave. _There's a wound somewhere._ “Are you sure?” Shiro swapped his sword over and activated his prosthetic.  
“About what?” Zestera pulled the out the blade.  
“I'm not insane,” Shiro rolled to the side and pushed himself forwards as Zestera struck out. Shiro parried the blow, but before Zestera could withdraw the pole arm, he grabbed it in his prosthetic and gave it a sharp tug.

 

Zestera refused to yield. They widened their stance and dug their feet into the ground, gripping the handle with all their strength. Their game of tug-of-war was short-lived. Shiro levered himself from the ground as he pressed forward. Zestera was forced backward a pace. Then another. They lost their balance; Shiro understanding what they finally meant. The hands fumbled to maintain their grip, and it was all he needed. Shiro dropped the sword to the floor and gripped the dull side of the blade, and deftly moved the prosthetic up the sharp end. He pulled it back and stabbed forward. Zestera's hold was gone. They dropped to the ground on their hands and knees. Shiro tilted his head. It was too easy. “You're quicker and stronger than this.” He stabbed the pole arm into the ground and took the sword from the floor, plucking the sand that clumped to the blood away. He loomed above Zestera, their face cast down to the floor.

 

“Why does he care about you?”  
Shiro blinked. “Who?”  
“Sendak. Why does he care if you live or die? You're... _nothing_ , like us.” Zestera's voice shook as they looked up, their expression conveying the rage, despair and confusion that tainted their voice. Shiro crouched down, placing the flat edge under their chin. “I've given him everything,” Shiro's voice was steadier then he could've imagine as he stroked the metal against the bronze skin. “He's repurposing me and providing I win, not only do I get my collar back, but after I say my goodbyes, I'm starting afresh.” He leaned in close. “See if I lose, Matt and Sam are dead. If I lose, he's going to get them to go to Earth, suck all the quintessence out. He's gonna take Keith, Zestera, he's gonna torture him and I won't be able to save him.” Shiro pulled the blade away, “I'm gonna be able to have some semblance of a life again with the Galra.” He offered a warm smile, his eyelids fluttering, “Sendak will forgive me.”

 

“You're just as insane.” He could barely hear Zestera's voice, but felt their nails scratch across his face. Shiro grabbed at the red-hot lines and snarled in retort, “ _how_? I've accepted my fucking place!”  
“He'll never forgive you – he'll never care for you! The Galra do nothing but _lie!_ ” Zestera rolled over the sand and took the handle of the pole arm, ripping it from the floor. “You're my friend but I can't let you do this,” they shook their head, Shiro's eyes narrowing. “Don't you _insult_ me!” He leapt from the crouched position like a cat. Zestera brought it down, the handle smashing into his left shoulder. Shiro yelled out in pain, cursing his human weakness. _Maybe they'd remove the other_.  
“You've become too involved!”  
“It's a bit hard to avoid!”  
“I've avoided it for ten deca-phoebs!”  
“And I'm not _you_!” Shiro pushed Zestera's body into the sand, both of them dropping their weapons again as they wrestled for dominance.

 

-

 

The fights were more barbaric and desperate then he was expecting. His attention was focused on the Champion, a rebel that had been causing his father problems pheobs' ago. Champion's sword punctured his opponent, lifting them high into the air. He was certainly strong and incredibly efficient. There was no wasted movements in how he fought, and it was a shame that he was sanctioned for death. If he was allowed to take a gladiator, this is one he would have purchased; he'd happily ally himself with those who hated the Galra if it meant furthering his own agenda. His eyes drifted over the remaining members. The beastly dragon women seemed to almost be finished fighting – the gold-scaled one not looking like she had much left in her. The other one was rather battered as well. Zethrid had sent him a message about wanting to fight her, while Ezor had inquired if she could fuck her. He wished he could please the two, but sadly it was out of his hands. Finally, Lotor found the last two wrestling in the sand. It seemed rather apt that Sendak and Gnov's slaves have such an intimate-looking fight considering their masters previous relationship. _Speaking of which_.

 

“You must be _very_ pleased, Commander,” Lotor glanced at Sendak, sat rigidly in his seat as usual when they was around his father. “His performance is as expected.”  
“He truly is _quite_ barbaric.”  
“Only in the arena.” Sendak frowned at him like he should know this. “His small mind is quite tactical.”  
“Really? It looks like his tactics are just slaughter everything.”  
“Then you're not paying attention, as usual,” Sendak turned away. Lotor hummed a response, and turned his gaze back to the Champion. “Who owns Champion?”  
“Ranveig.”

 

-

 

They were at a deadlock. Even with Zestera straddled over Shiro's hips, if either of them gave, the other would have the upper hand. That was until a body collapsed down a couple of metres away. They looked over to see Serkdra coughing blood into the sand. The two eased their holds, Shiro hoisting himself up. He'd seen his opponents die in by his hand, but never from someone else, and not at this close a range.

 

“Serkdra?” Zestera pushed themselves away, grabbing the pole arm and dropping to their knees in front of her. Shiro watched her look at them, but he wasn't sure she if registered they were there. The blood loss was heavy; her wings were in tatters and half the armour ripped away. Shiro pushed himself up and took the sword, stalking over. It was fair to kill her. She wasn't going to live anyway.

 

Serkdra dropped fully to the floor, her body weak and she knew she was past the point of no return. She couldn't stop Azea; she never could. Her vision was clouding and the noise around her was disorientating as she moved her twitching hand closer to the figures. “You need to...kill-”

 

The point of the claymore pierced through the base of her skull. Zestera shrieked in shock. Azea pried the pole arm from their hands, pushing them backwards as she twirled it above the body, leisurely strolling around it. She paused, catching it mid spin, then brutally stabbed the blade down just under the wings. They could hear it strike the bone, and the wet noise it made as it pierced through the flesh. “Finally. It's over.” She stood over the body, flexing her talons. “I never have to deal with you again. I don't have to do as destiny demanded. I'm free.” She turned her head slowly towards Shiro and Zestera. “Hear that? I'm _free_.”

 

“You're all fucking insane.” Zestera took the pole arm from the corpse, body shaking as they glanced up to the royal box. She was there, of course she was. They gazed back at the two, then noted Nadiva slowly moving towards them. Zestera swallowed again. This wasn't what they wanted. They weren't going to die against so many monsters. “Fuck this,” they raised the pole arm, glaring at each of them in turn as they backed away. “I ain't giving a fucking rapist, some deranged dragon-freak, and,” they turned to Shiro, who remained impassive and unnaturally calm for the emotive person he normally was, “I...I don't even know what to call you. Broken, corrupted, the result of Galran meddling...I ain't letting none of you have the pleasure of killing me.” Zestera turned and bolted. It was against everything they believed in, but this was it, this was their tipping point. They looked up at the box, priming the pole arm. They stopped before their balanced went again, launching the weapon straight at the box. If it hit the wall, good, that would be all the challenge he needed. If it hit Zarkon, well that was one less tyrant in the universe.

 

The arena was deathly silent. Zarkon rose from his seat and moved towards the wall of the box. He dropped the pole arm to the ground and it landed with a clatter. Zarkon narrowed his eyes as he loosened a guttural snarl.  
“ _Dreck_.”  
He dropped down to the floor, making the landing with ease. “Like your kin, you _dare_ defy your ultimate master?” He watched the slave stumble backwards, its eyes a mixture of fear and malice. “I'm dying on my own terms!” It screeched back, lifting itself up and clenching it's pathetic fists.  
“You wish to strike me?”  
“ _I wish to see your fucking corpse picked apart by scavengers you deplorable bastard!”_ Zarkon laughed as he slowly strode forward. There was no reason to waste the bayard on such a creature, yet, as he glanced around at the remaining slaves, perhaps it would be a fair reminder of their place. The bottom of the food chain; under his boot.

 

“Move!” Shiro reflexively yelled at the other two as the cannon fired. He may've been out of range but he still dodged the blast, shielding his eyes from the light. As it dissipated, he cracked his eyes open. Just like last time, there were no remains except scorch marks in the sand. The others were staring at Zarkon, mouths agape. “Remember your places _at my heel_.”

 

“Fight me.”  
Zarkon stopped. “What did you say?”  
“Deaf? Fine. Fight me.”  
“No.”  
“Then,” Azea raised the claymore, licking her lips, “I'll just have to start a fight.” Zarkon caught the blade in his hand, staring down at her. “You are not marked for death.” He grabbed her throat and lifted her from the floor, “yet you wish for it?”  
“I wish for a challenge! I can't kill him,” she jabbed her talons at Shiro as she shakily spoke, “and _he_ I can finish in a few seconds flat.”  
“Prove that,” Zarkon threw her to the ground. Shiro watched as she turned towards Nadiva, his expression as composed as ever. _That was his fight, she wasn't taking that away from him._ “I owe you this from keeping me up all night,” she broke into a run and Shiro's feet followed after her.

 

She captured Nadiva with ease and bared down on him. “I wonder how it will effect you. Will your body lock up? Will you go blind? Will you perish?” She lifted him closer to her face, sucking in air through her teeth and focusing on the glands. She leaned in, biting his lips and crushed hers against his. He struggled in her arms, but it didn't matter, it's not like he seemed bothered last night doing whatever with Shiro and Zestera from what she could tell. She dropped the body to the floor, kicking him over sharply. “My business is neurotoxins, and I hope you _suf-_ ” she spluttered, looking down at the blade that came out through her stomach.

 

Shiro ripped it out, grabbing her by the tail. He activated the prosthetic and thrust his hand into one of the open wounds, her screech muffled by the blood pumping in his ears.  
“He's. Mine.” Shiro bit out as he stabbed his flattened hand into each of her wounds. Her blood mixed in with all the others and his vision was clouding over with rage. He didn't realise she'd grabbed him until it was too late, and he was thrown over her shoulder on top of Nadiva's body. Nadiva yelled out in pain as Shiro connected with him. Azea snarled, spitting blood to the floor. “You little fuckin' _drack_.” She raised her talons high and brought them down over Shiro's chest, slicing through the armour like it was made of tissue paper. She did it again, and again even as he tried to grab her arm.

 

Her next attack struck the prosthetic, drawing deep lines over the metal but cracking her talons. She coughed again, swaying on her feet. The blood loss was heavy, and Shiro didn't know how much her race could survive without, but judging by what was around them and her skin, now paler and sweaty, she didn't have much longer left. Shiro shakily rose to his feet, casting her a wild stare. “He's my kill.” He reiterated darkly, moving to collect the discarded sword. Sendak would be livid at any possible damage. He couldn't disappoint his Commander. He levelled it at her throat. “Do you understand?”  
She didn't look at him until he pressed the point into the side of her neck. “Do you understand?” He repeated. She tilted her head, pupils shaking. She went to open her mouth, but keeled over to the side.

 

Shiro stared at the body, then inclined his head towards Nadiva. “Get up. We're ending this.” He watched, licking his lips as Nadiva pushed himself from the ground. He took her discarded claymore in his shaking hands and stumbled to the side, eyes twitching wildly. “This won't be what I want.”

“Then we can agree on something.” Shiro hunched forward, lips curling upwards.

 

-

 

Thace felt his communicator vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, hand still clasped around Ulaz's shaking one, and flipped it open. His brows creased, it was a message from Commander Prorok. He opened it to find it was forwarded from Commander Ranveig with a video attachment. He paused, looking to Ulaz, then back at his communicator. “I've got a weird message. Do you mind bearing with me a tick?” Ulaz looked up at him, “what type of message?”  
“Prorok sent me a video he received from Ranveig.”  
“Odd. Sure, take your time.”  
“Thank you,” Thace gave Ulaz a kiss on the cheek and received a soft purr in response as he moved from his seat. He cast the arena a quick look as the two gladiator's circled each other. It wouldn't be a long fight – not in the state the two were in. As he left, he could hear the crowd begin to rumble in excitement.

 

He moved to the bathrooms, locking himself in a cubicle and checked the message again. Thace paused over playing the video – he felt a strange sense of dread. Perhaps it was the events he'd watched that were rattling him, or it was worry about how Ulaz was going to be if Shiro didn't make it. He rubbed his eyes and just hit play. The ticks slipped by with nothing innocuous bar talking. Then the camera panned. Thace almost dropped the communicator as he double-took, eyes wide at the state of Zestera and Shiro as Champion bore down on the two. He stopped the video, bringing his hand over his mouth. He played it again, he skipped ahead. It just kept going and going. The more he watched the more he wanted to be sick.

 

-

 

“You know I've been thinking of this a lot,” Shiro caught Nadiva's arm, chuckling as he drew blood. “There's so many ways this could go, but you know what my favourite one is?” He back-stepped away as Nadiva raised the sword above his head, pointing the tip at Shiro. “I don't care.”  
“It's cutting both your fucking dicks off.” Shiro moved from the thrust and brought his arm up to parry the downward strike. “You're not doing so well. _Poor Champion_.” He simpered, slipping around Nadiva's side. It hurt to move, but his chest wasn't bleeding as much any more. “Can't attack so well at this range, can you?” He laughed as Nadiva kicked him – it wasn't much of a strike. “You're nothing but a piece of shit.”  
“You're nothing but a puppet of the Galra.” Nadiva growled.  
“I'm no _fucking puppet!_ ” Shiro swung round and Nadiva rolled away, his teal hair a mess as he came to a stop on his haunches, sword out in front of him.

 

“I don't know what they've done to you, but you're not the man I fought the first time.”  
“No – I'm stronger than back then!” Shiro seethed as he raised the prosthetic arm, “I've been made into something _better_.” He circled Nadiva like a hungry animal waiting for it's wounded prey to succumb, and it's what Nadiva felt like now. It was not the first time, nor would it be the last if he could help it. He felt his hand spasm around the sword handle. Whatever the dragon-bitch and breathed into his mouth, it was doing something to his body. He was uncertain if he would survive, but for the efforts of the rebels, he had to get out of here, they had to find and hide Voltron, they had to fight the Empire. His orders at least were sent, the prison bust would still go ahead. The most explicit request he made was to release the other human.

 

Nadiva pushed himself up on shaking legs. Shiro came for him again – the strike low. He dropped back down, holding the blade to block it. Their eyes locked, and for the first time since the match began he realised how different Shiro really was. He was lost – gone. The Galra had likely done something to him – it's why he denied remembering things. It was a shame. He pushed Shiro back to the ground and with all his weight, dropped forward and used the sword to hold him in place. “This reminds me a little of our first fight.”  
“No, it doesn't.” Shiro spat, wincing as the metal pressed into his skin.  
“Oh? You don't recall being underneath me? I mean,” Nadiva unfurled the appendage, the pointed tip curling round to press against Shiro's shoulder, “does this remind you of anything?”  
“Yeah,” Shiro smirked, “it reminds me you've only got _one_ left because Sendak ripped the other from your body.”

 

With speed Nadiva was lacking, Shiro brought the prosthetic arm up and grabbed the pointed tip. It activated and Nadiva screamed as he tried to pull away. “Oh no, no you're not going anywhere,” Shiro purred as his other arm was released and that grabbed the appendage. He pushed his body up so it was held between his arms. Nadiva swore as he tried to pull the limb away, but Shiro's weight was clearly causing him issues. “I wonder what it'd feel like if I fucked you with the tip? Like you're attempt last night?” He clenched his fist tighter around it, hearing the limb creak under his hold.  
“Get off!”  
“Fuck yourself!” Shiro wasn't sure if it was through force of will or not, but he felt the heat from the hand intensify against his body as he crushed the exo-skin, whatever it was, of the limb. Nadiva lurched away, taking the remaining part with him. It leaked blood and Shiro looked at the pointed tip in his hands, before raising his gaze to Nadiva, lips tugged into a smirk. “I like you on the back-foot.”

 

Shiro threw the claymore to the sands and rose to his feet. He took Sendak's sword back in his prosthetic, and held the pointed end in his human hand. He pressed forward, kicking Nadiva in the face. He heard a crack and gave himself a self-satisfied smile. “See you may be quick,” Shiro stamped on his chest a few times for good measure, “but you're brittle.” He could feel the smile grow wider as the adrenaline kicked in. “I've had a lot of beatings, see,” he slashed the sword across his armour, tearing it open and giggling a little as he pressed the blade against an exposed nipple, drawing more blood. _I'd give anything to watch him bleed forever_. “You get used to them though. See, Sendak crushed this arm,” he raised the prosthetic, “but he had to use the prosthetic of his. Me? I broke your bones with just this,” he raised his human hand, “that's why you're weaker than me.” He dropped down to his knees, pushing the sword between his thighs. “It's really tempting to just tear your ass up, you know?” He watched Nadiva's impassive face closely, “but unlike you, I'm not a rapist.” He stroked the sharp edge against his thighs.

 

There was no warning – why would there be? Nadiva screeched out in pain as the tip from his appendage was stabbed into his hemipenes. It wasn't just once. Shiro bore down on him, gripping his throat tightly as he swore and spat, driving the point home with ever successive stab. Nadiva would never claim this was undue recompense. It did highlight one thing though; the emotional fragility was clouding his judgement. Between the spasms, he reached for the sword Shiro had so stupidly left to the wayside and curled his fingers around it.

 

Shiro screamed when something sharp connected with his side, pushing its way between his rips. He coughed blood over Nadiva's face and moved his head to see the sword stabbed in.  
“It seems the battle is turning in my favour, no?” His bass voice was too smooth for the situation. Shiro groaned in agony as the sword pulled away, then again when Nadiva bucked his hips upwards. Shiro rolled to the side, wincing as sand caught in the wound, and Nadiva rose on unsteady feet, glaring down at him as he pressed the tip of the sword into the palm of his prosthetic hand. “This is quite a nuisance, wouldn't you agree?”

 

-

 

Lotor could _feel_ Sendak's rage as he ground his teeth together. His body was much more rigid than normal, and his fists were curled tight. He really must be quite fond of the little alien if this was his response to him losing, even if he was spared death. “At least you offered to save him.” Lotor smirked. Sendak didn't respond, he just kept watching. He would try another way. “At least he can continue being a good bed warmer for you.” Lotor could feel Sendak's growl in his stomach.  
“Mind your _tongue_.”  
“Sorry, who should mind their tongue, Commander?”  
“You, _Prince_ Lotor.”  
“You can spit my title with as much venom as you please,” Lotor leaned closer, “but it is an inescapable fact that I am the Prince, much to yours and my father's disapproval.”  
“You are only a Prince in title, there is nothing princely about you.” Sendak spat back. It was a old, well-worn insult by this point, that Lotor didn't find it hurtful. He had his own agenda now compared to when he was younger, he knew who he was.

 

“I will give him a varga of my time to assess him.” Lotor muttered.  
“On what condition? What is your angle?” Sendak growled.  
“He wins this fight. If I deem him worthy, then he can see my prisoner. If not, well, I don't need to explain to you.”  
“What else are you after?”  
“Make sure he is clean and dressed accordingly.”  
“Accordingly _for what_?”  
“Oh, Commander Sendak, must I spell it out for you?” Lotor looked at him with a gleam in those eyes that Sendak would never admit, looked just like his father's over ten thousand deca-phoebs ago. Lotor leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I may not watch the fights, but I have seen the _filth_ you put him through. I think my intentions are clear. By the way, this is a _direct order_ , Commander. Collared or not, I expect it to be followed to the letter, lest my father know you cannot take commands from your superiors. But then,” Lotor patted his shoulder, “you don't mind the punishment, do you?” Sendak turned to the brat, his gaze obviously murderous by Lotor's insolent grin.  
“Did I touch a nerve?”  
“It will be done, _Prince Lotor_.”  
“Well aren't you a _good_ Commander?”

 

If Zarkon allowed it, he'd kill Lotor in a heartbeat. Sometimes he wondered if death was too good for him. His stomach lurched as Champion drove the blade in over and over into his slave's palm, Sendak curling his own prosthetic claws to remind himself they were still there. Ranveig was howling behind him.

 

-

 

Shiro screeched out in horror at the mangled hand. He didn't know if he was in pain, but his body was reacting like it was. He didn't know, he didn't understand. “Maybe,” Nadiva dropped to his knees as his head twitched, “I should start deconstructing the rest?” Shiro's body shook as he turned his head, feeling the blade jab against his throat. “You don't have the strength,” he bit out, pushing the point away with his human hand. Nadiva's body convulsed. “I have a better idea.” He clambered on top of Shiro, gripping his face in his hands and rubbing clawed fingers under his eyes. “See it as a way you can remember this fight. You won't ever forget _this_ ,” he pressed his thumbs against the bridge of Shiro's nose as he bore his entire weight down, dragging them across his face.

 

Shiro screamed, choking on his spit, as he felt the skin rip away. “You will never forget this pain.” Nadiva whispered hoarsely, doing it again. “Quintessence will not heal this scar.” Shiro stared wide-eyed into the glowing eye. He screamed again as he flailed, catching Nadiva in the cheek with all the force he could muster. Nadiva toppled over, and Shiro scrabbled on top of him, grabbing the sword and making some distance. His body ached, his wounds were reopening, and he could feel the blood run down his face. His whole body twitched as he checked the hand again. He tried to activate it, but it felt _wrong_. _No, no this isn't right_. He thought it almost indestructible. _The damage from the arena, it was never truly fixed. Of course, the patch-up job._

 

Nadiva fumbled for a weapon, finding the closest thing the tip of his appendage covered in his own blood. This would be their last stand now. He took it in shaking hands and pushed himself to his knees on what small energy reserves he had left. Shiro didn't look like he was faring much better. A shame. “Face me, Shiro. Come, kill me if you _can_.”

 

“For victory or death!” Shiro didn't know what possessed him to scream it, maybe it was holding the sword of his master, or maybe it was because he just needed to say something. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter; just meeting his objectives for Sendak. He'd make him proud, he'd win. Shiro ran low like he always did, the blood dripping down his face as he drew the sword up, aiming straight for Nadiva's chest. Nadiva dropped to his knees, and Shiro thrust it forward.

 

Everything was silent except for his own heartbeat as Shiro stared into his eyes. He didn't talk. He pushed the blade in further, earning some garbled noise from the dying Champion. He'd done it. He'd actually done it. “W-What?” His voice shook as one of Nadiva's hands gripped the blade through all the shuddering. Shiro watched in horror as he pulled himself along the length of it. “Why won''t you di-” his voice was cut by a sharp stab of pain to his abdomen. He looked down, eyes twitching, to find the tip embedded within him. Nadiva twisted it further in, looking up to him. He mouthed something Shiro couldn't understand – didn't want to. He yanked the blade from Nadiva's body. There was blood, so much blood. With his prosthetic forearm, he struck Nadiva in the face, before dropping over him, stabbing the blade in over and over again screaming that he stayed dead this time. Tears loosened from his eyes as he kept plunging the blade in. He had so much anger – not just for Nadiva, but for _everything_.

 

After who knew how many dobosh's, the roar of the arena broke him from his stabbing spree. He blinked, tilting his head at the bloody and destroyed cavity of Nadiva's chest. _He should be dead_. On unsteady feet, he rose. Everything felt unreal as he cast his eyes over the sands, dyed a plethora of colours. The bodies looked like islands in a sea of sand. He looked down at his hands, coated in so many different colours. He stank of blood. The noise was deafening, but then not so much. There was a high pitch noise, it rang and rang and blocked out everything else. Dazed, he stared up at the box. Sendak was there. He raised the sword before dropping to his knees and falling face-first to the ground. _I won. I brought my Commander victory. They're all safe._ A small smile graced his lips. He was a good boy.

 

-

 

Ulaz reacted instantaneously. He leapt down the stairs and pelted up to the barrier, jumping to the ground. He stumbled as he landed but it didn't matter – Shiro mattered. _You can't die, not here, not now after all of this._ He clenched his teeth as he sprinted over the sand, dropping next to Shiro's unmoving body. He placed his fingers against his neck – there was the faintest pulse. Fumbling with his utility belt and with shaking fingers, he primed the needle of quintessence and injected it into him. _He needed more._ Ulaz pulled out the others, injecting each one as quickly as he could. At this point he wasn't worried about the quintessence levels – he needed him to _live_. “Please, Shiro, wake up, wake up. Don't...don't die now. _Please_. I'll get you out of here, even if I have to die for it.” He smoothed the bloodstained hair from his face. He felt cold, too cold. The pulse was faint.

 

Ulaz rolled him over onto his back. He swore at the spike stuck deep in his abdomen – he had a feeling it must have hit an organ. He whipped his head up, he needed _help_. The Rudiarius was on her way with a Druid in tow. _Oh gods, please have mercy on him._

 

“Is he alive?” She glared daggers at Ulaz, who stuttered out a reply. She growled and gently tilted Shiro's head. “His master should be here, not ya. Here to experiment on him, aintcha?”  
“Your hatred for me has no place here!” Ulaz snarled, “Shiro needs our help.” She snorted a reply as the Druid moved between them. “He is close to death.”  
“We know!” Ulaz bit back. The Druid cocked it's head to the side, pressing a hand to Shiro's chest. “I will buy him some time. Carry him to the entrance.” Ulaz watched as the Druid used it's strange magic; Shiro's body convulsing. He opened his eyes for a split second, gulping back air, before falling back to the sand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing Lotor and Sendak. I really, really enjoyed that. So yeah, pretty much every one is dead. No more gladiator friends for Shiro.
> 
> But where he's going he doesn't need friends.  
> We're going to be entering the darker zone of this fic in the next few chapters and I do not know how much reprieve I can give you, honestly. My update schedule may slow down a little to write my other fic if it gets a bit too much to write, but I'm not going to abandon this at all. I think chapter sizes might shrink down a bit as well, but I'm happy to announce we are over half way now. The file doc has this chapter from mid p305-mid p319. I also had to rewrite this bloody thing about 3 times and couldn't settle on certain fights - like I wanted a tournament but couldn't work out fair rules, and having a three-way final seemed...weird?
> 
> Can't wait to hear from you all ^^ but hey: the arm's been taken, the hair's turning white, and now he has his scar! Now the hair just needs to finish going white!


	33. Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos ^^ glad you guys are enjoying this!
> 
> Finally some things come to a head this chapter concerning a few characters, and the bits in italics is Shiro and his wonderful memories during the time he's out. Zarkon is not a happy bunny either, so fun times for High Command.
> 
> I've had some fun and enjoyed writing Shiro's memories, focusing on his early years pre-Garrison. Over the next few chapters, you'll find them become a little more frequent. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I need to remove the arm. He can't go into the tank like that.”  
“Understood.”  
“He's bleeding again.”  
“Compress the wound.”  
“His vitals are dropping!”  
“Attach a quintessence drip immediately – not that one! The other one!”  
“He _will not perish_.” Haggar strode towards the table, placing her hands either side of Shiro's head. She channelled her energy into them, and hissed out as she pressed her fingers harder against his skull. “I have brought us more time. Attach the drip.” She watched the feed get pushed roughly into his human hand and returned her attention to Officer Hepta who was trying to remove the arm. She shoved him aside and placed her hand over the metal. The design was updated, and she could finally fit the new one. The arm disengaged from the metal ring, and she hurried away with it, studying the palm intently.

 

-

 

“You are all _disgraces_!” Zarkon roared at his Commanders, forcibly kneeled below his throne by the sentries. “Haggar!” He barked to her. She moved forward and without instruction, because she _always knew_ what he required of her, she used her dark powers upon the wretched lot. Their screams of agony as the magic surged through their bodies was like music to his ears, but he would not allow his expression to reflect his delight and amusement. The black bayard materialised in his hand as he stepped down from his throne towards the ingrates. He tilted Gnov's head up with the sword it'd transformed into, staring into her twitching eyes. “You're slave was the cause of this, so you will be the first to undergo punishment.” He narrowed his eyes, searching for any sign or scent of weakness from his advisor. She stared up at him, closing her eyes. “I accept death if you so will it.”

 

Zarkon clicked his claws, and the sentries pulled her to her feet. “Take the Commander to my quarters. The rest of you,” he stepped between the remaining four, “will be sent to the Druids for the _first_ part of your punishments.” He turned on his feet and returned to Haggar's side. They glanced at each other briefly. “See to their punishments yourself.”  
“Yes, Sire.” He made a low rumble of approval in his throat as he moved from the room.

 

-

 

_The world around him was a psychedelic one of yellow, green, and purple-tinged white lights that swirled and blended together. On occasions, it would be disrupted by dark purple-black specks that reminded Shiro of falling ash, but these would quickly disappear along with the sense of dread they heralded on their arrival. He had no idea if this was a dream or a different reality, because it felt he'd been in here for movements. Sometimes he would hear things, but he couldn't smell, taste, or touch anything. Whatever this place was; it was soothing, if not exceedingly bright._

 

-

 

“O-Officer Ulaz, sir, you should go home and rest.”  
“No.” Ulaz remained beside the tank, taking a swig of his energy drink as his eyes twitched from the lack of sleep. Words were beginning to blur and he kept hearing noises that belonged to things that didn't exist, but he would remain here until Shiro woke up. “Sir, it's been three quintants'.”  
“Officer Hepta, I _advise_ you keep your opinions to yourself.”

 

“He is right.”  
Ulaz blinked, rubbing his eyes as Sendak approached, arms behind his back. “How is he?”  
“Critical.”  
“I see.” Sendak's voice was even in tone. Ulaz couldn't help but release his growl. “Can't you show _anything_ towards him? He's...he's... _look at him!_ ” He rounded on Sendak, drawing himself up to full height. Sendak pushed him away by the shoulder.  
“Get out of my face.”  
“This is _your fault_!” Ulaz spat. Sendak glanced at him, lips tugging downwards. He grabbed Ulaz by the scruff of his armour, drawing him in close. “He is a gladiator, and became too emotional in his last fight. However, he _won_ , and so I am pleased.” Sendak glanced at the tank, then back to Ulaz. “He is resilient,” he pushed him back, “have some faith in his abilities.”  
“I hate how you talk about him,” Ulaz wasn't aware that the words left his mouth.

 

Sendak lifted him and pushed his body against the wall, holding Ulaz in place with the prosthetic claws. “Officer Hepta, return in five dobosh's.”  
“Yes, Commander,” his ears tracked the movement until the door swished closed. He brought his face in close, glaring daggers at Ulaz.  
“Who does he belong to?”  
“You.”  
“You, _what?_ ”  
“You, Commander.”  
“Exactly,” Sendak grabbed him by the ear, pulling his face back. “I noticed the teeth marks you left on his neck. If you _dare_ mark him again, you will suffer the consequences, and so will _he_.”  
“Why him if I'm the one at fault?”  
“Because,” Sendak leaned in closer, his breath hot against the short fur, “you are both weakened by each other, and I will exploit that. I warn you once, and only once. Do you understand, Officer?”  
“Perfectly, Commander.” Sendak could hear the disdain, but it was inconsequential as he dropped him to the ground. “Go home and rest. That is an order.” He watched Ulaz walk away defeated.

 

-

 

Sendak paused as he spotted the figure sat at the fountain. He steeled himself and moved forwards, settling beside her. He noted the heavy bruising and cuts, and imagined the rest of her body was injured under the armour she wore. “Did you take the punishment well?”  
“I don't know how you managed it for so long under his tutelage.” He let her fall against his chest and brought an arm around her shoulders, feeling her wince at the touch. “Is it me, or the pain?”  
“The pain.”

 

“Do you need your wounds tended to?”  
“They are heavy and run deep.”  
“It's not something I haven't dealt with before.”  
“Would you,” he knew what she was going to ask, and for the first time in a long while, he felt himself not mind yielding, “would you stay the night, Sen-Sen?”  
“I will.” Sendak helped to lift her from the fountain, and slowly, they walked back towards her quarters.

 

-

 

“What is this about?” Sendak looked between Ulaz and Thace, eye narrowed as he scrutinised them. Thace shifted from one foot to the other before answering.  
“There is something I wish to bring to your attention.”  
“And what is that?” Sendak snapped, tapping his claws against the gauntlet.  
“A video file has been making the rounds. It's contents show Commander Gnov's slave and yours in a compromised position-”  
“I do not care for what slaves do together in their spare time.”  
“Commander, there's more.”  
“More?” Sendak leaned forward, lips curled back, “explain.” Thace tensed under the intense glare and pulled out his communicator slowly, bringing up the message. “It would be better to show you, Commander.” He answered quietly. Unconsciously he shifted a little closer to Ulaz, knocking their shoulders against each other.

 

Sendak leaned back and played the video, ears flicking impatiently. Like Thace, he skipped ahead a little. Unlike him, the Commander's face did not reflect disgust, instead a deep-rooted look of abhorrence for what was in front of him. His ears were pointed forward, alert and unmoving, jaw clenched tightly. Without warning, he tossed it back to Thace and rose, claws activating. “Leave.” Both Thace and Ulaz left without further prompting, but not before hearing the table behind them shatter. As they got outside, they heard a thunderous snarl. Thace looked between the door and Ulaz, who could only offer him subdued look.

 

“He rarely gets like that these quintants.”  
“Ulaz, you shouldn't have to-”  
“He's still preferable to working in the labs.” Ulaz glanced up as he heard voices, and the two moved towards the stairs. Ladnok and her slave came into view, and Ulaz could sense the malice as soon as they locked eyes.

 

“Kaleska, calm yourself.” Ladnok muttered, motioning her to walk on the opposite side. She glanced at the two briefly, aware they likely could see the dark bruising around her face. “Good afternoon. Have you been to see Sendak?”  
“Yes, Commander,” they both answered. Her pupils drifted between the two of them, noting their breathing was off. “Did you perchance tell him?”  
“Tell him?”  
“The video that Ranveig did.”  
“How did you-”  
“I've known him for a long time,” she answered briskly, “and it looks like you've completed too many laps at once. Your answer is also enough.” She looked to Prorok's Lieutenant, the talker of the two, “is this correct?”  
“Yes, Commander.”  
“I see. Very well, be on your way.” She waved them off and turned to Kaleska as they disappeared from view.

 

“Would you be so kind as to contact Commander Gnov for me, please?”  
“Of course, mistress.”  
“Kaleska?” She watched her massive body turn, the new scar along her face and cybernetic eye glowing back, “realise that I do not think you should have been held responsible for what happened in the arena. You are a superb Rudiarius, and I order you not to feel otherwise.”  
“T-Thank you, mistress.”  
“That will be all.” She watched her enter the quarters and turned on her heel towards Sendak's door.

 

-

 

“ _I'm sorry, Mrs Shirogane, but your husband, he...he did not make it.” For the first time in his life, Shiro witnessed his mother crumble before his very eyes. She fell back into the seat, her body pulled tightly inwards. The mournful wail that was wrenched from her body chilled him to the core. “M-Mother?” He moved, scared and nervous, towards her, and she glanced up through her fingers at him. He could feel the tears roll from his eyes as he choked on his own sobs. She pulled him in with all the force she could muster, holding him to her bosom, rocking him gently back and forth in her arms as she hushed him between her own cracked sobs. “Takashi,” she repeated over and over in his ear._

 

_Shiro found himself watching from the door at his younger self and mother. This was a well-worn memory of his, and he shifted uncomfortably as he watched his grandmother and aunt gently pull him from his mother's arms. They were taking him to his grandparent's out in the countryside, where he'd ended up staying for a few weeks. He remembered his friend, Makoto, would come by train with his mother, and he'd give Shiro all the homework they'd been set. When they'd finished talking about what he was missing back at school, they'd go exploring out into the fields and alongside the river._

 

_One time, Makoto's mother made them both a bento each, and they sat under a red maple tree on their jackets. He scratched the back of his neck, remembering the kiss on the cheek Makoto had given him. He told him everything was going to be alright and that he was strong. Shiro laughed to himself; Makoto had also said he just needed to get better at baseball, and at least he had the time to practice._

 

_As the memory faded, he found himself in a strange place where space seemed irrelevant, like in some of the other dreams he recalled. He walked, finding that for once he could travel a distance, until the scenery changed and he found himself staring down at himself, aged fourteen with the biggest grin on his face as he ran through Shiro's body. He turned around, watching as he came to a stop at his mother's side and thrust a letter into her face as she stood at the cooker._

 

“ _Mum, mum! I got the letter!”  
_ _She took it from his hands, studying the envelope, and looked down at him. “You haven't opened it yet?”  
_ “ _No, I wanted to wait until I got home – we could open it together?” Shiro gave her a hopeful look as he took it back in his fingers. She paused, before nodding in agreement. “I think that's a fine idea.”  
_ “ _What's for dinner? It smells really good.” He leaned in to her, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Oh! Before I forget, don't neglect your chores tonight.” She tapped him affectionately on the nose and Shiro grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he wandered over to the sleeping cat, settling down to poke her toe beans. The cat made a brr noise, and unfurled itself languidly._

 

 _Shiro stood watching himself and mother eat, and then as his younger self flopped into her lap, he carefully opened the letter as she played with his hair. “You look like your father when he was your age.” She murmured, and he watched himself pull the letter out. “Was dad gangly like me as well?” Shiro mouthed the words along with himself, a doleful look in his eyes. “No, but he wasn't as tall as you are. You get that from your mother's side!” She raised her fist in mock triumph, and he watched himself groan petulantly. “Anyway, lemme read you this!” He cleared his throat, and Shiro watched with a pained smile as the two embraced in excitement. He'd been accepted to the Garrison. “You're such a smart boy, Takashi! If your father was here, he'd be pulling out the sake in celebration. So, I'll have to do it myself! You can have one, but after that, chores!”  
_ “ _Seriously?!” Shiro whined, but he had a grin on his face._

 

_Like the last one, the memory faded out and Shiro was back where he was before. “I don't know why you want to show me my old memories. What's the relevance?” He called out to either his brain or the possible curator of the entire thing. There was of course, no reply._

 

“ _Ow!” Shiro rubbed the back of his head and turned around to find a model of the Calypso at his feet. He bent down to pick up the model, making sure it wasn't damaged before looking up. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a figure stood in front of him – a man in his mid-thirties. Like him, he had a sharp jawline and dark brown hair. He pushed his glasses up his nose and placed his hands on his hips._

 

“ _Takashi, you shouldn't throw that.”  
_ _Shiro opened his mouth but a much younger voice answered. He looked down, watching himself; at a guess about seven years old, scurry over to his father as he held up the model. “I wanted to make it fly like on the telly!”  
_ “ _Takashi,” he watched his father bend down, wincing, and ruffle his hair affectionately, “this one won't fly like the real one does, but one day,” he took the model from his hands, checking it for any damage, “I bet you'll make an even better one fly all by yourself.”  
_ “ _You think I can fly a spaceship?”  
_ “ _I think you can do anything.” He kissed his younger selves forehead. “You just gotta promise me you keep up with your studies, and eat your vegetables.”  
_ “ _But they're grossssss!” Shiro couldn't help but chuckle as he watched himself stamp his feet and pout. “They might be gross, but big strong astronauts eat them all up, alright?”  
_ “ _Do they get mochi for afters?”  
_ “ _Only if they're very good.”  
_ “ _I'm very good!”_

 

 _He watched himself take the model from his father's hands and skipped off making 'cccchh' noises, giggling as he ran around his father's legs. “You're the big scary alien, kay?”  
_ “ _Arrrgh! What naughty pilot has disturbed Space King Orochi?” His father crouched down, trying to grab at him as he played along.  
_ “ _I'm Admiral Takashi Shirogane of the Calypso, and I'm here to stop you with my friends!” Shiro wiped his eyes; it was cringe-worthy, but it felt nice revisiting this one. He sat down on the grass beneath his feet, smiling as he dad flopped down in 'defeat' to the floor, and his little self nuzzled in for a cuddle. “I won't throw it again. I'm sorry.”  
_ “ _That's a good boy.”_

 

-

 

“Some of the scars got infected.”  
“The one along his face?”  
“Yes.”  
“Explain how.”  
“The wounds were not sterilised and cleaned properly.”  
“Who was tasked with this job?”  
“The medical officer presently on the ship.”  
“I see.” There was a long pause. “Why did you not check?”  
“I was a bit _preoccupied_ with making sure he didn't bleed out all over the table, Commander!” Ulaz hung up, running his hand over Shiro's jaw. He was sedated on the table, another quintessence drip in his hand. He watched the refined quintessence feed itself into his body, quietly wondering what damage all the exposure would do to him. The two biggest effects was the shift towards aggressive tendencies and that Shiro's strength, stamina, and hardiness had increased substantially.

 

He sighed, moving to clean the infected scar. He could still hear Shiro's screams and cries, how he dropped to the sand unmoving. Everything else seemed disjointed in his memory, and Ulaz partially wanted to forget the events of the arena. The only positive was that he was out of a critical condition now, but it'd taken five quintants', and they'd had a few moments when Shiro almost went for good. It added to why they were all so stressed out; Sendak in particular.

 

-

 

Sendak's eyes locked with Ranveig's. For a few ticks, the two didn't move or make a sound. Sendak threw his gauntlet forward; Ranveig taking the brunt of the hit to the stomach. He charged, Gnov shouting something be couldn't hear behind him as he brought his organic hand around his throat. “You _dare!_ ”  
“Should've put a collar on him,” Ranveig rasped out, bringing his own hands up the wrestle Sendak off of him. He managed to get under his guard, flipping Sendak over onto his back. “You know what was good about it?” Ranveig leaned close to his ear, “when he keened and whined to be full, came in like a waste receptacle. Don't worry, I gave him what he begged for, then a little extra. Have you ever pissed in his-” Ranveig screeched as Sendak kneed him between the legs.

 

Shoving him off, Sendak hunched his shoulders and drew up the prosthetic, activating the claws as he drove it into Ranveig's groin. Ranveig screeched and he felt Gnov at his arm. She was shouting at him but he wouldn't listen. Shoving her back with ease, his face twisted into one of pure contempt for the dreck under him as he snarled. He bared his teeth as he clenched the metal hand together. The hall stank of blood and burning flesh as he pierced each individual claw into Ranveig, who roared in agony.

 

His blissful torture was interrupted by the Emperor himself. He was ripped from the dreck by the sentries, his knees kicked out beneath him. Zarkon looked as furious as he did a few quintant's ago, his mouth a tight thin line. He ordered the guards to summon Haggar, and the Emperor handled him himself. “I came here to collect Trugg, but you will do. You will explain your actions, Commander.” Sendak held his gaze, and with his usual confidence, agreed.

 

-

 

“ _Ahh, you're such a nerd!” Makoto bumped his shoulder into Shiro's, who scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as the two walked down the street. “All I did was pass the exams-”  
_ “ _You got the highest test scores and you got the scholarship as well! How're you not a nerd, Takashi?”  
_ “ _I just studied a lot!”  
_ “ _I'm so proud of you, but kinda sad too.” Makoto tugged his hand over to a vending machine and paused as he checked the options. “Why sad?”  
_ “ _Well, I was hoping we'd both get to go to the Garrison base down in Tanegashima, but you'll be off to America.” He pressed the button twice and watched two ice teas fall out.  
_ “ _It's where my dad wanted to work, but he compromised with my grandpa,” Shiro played with the cap on the bottle, “there's also the fact the Calypso is there.” He grinned at Makoto, who returned it. “Your dad worked on parts for that, didn't he?”  
_ “ _Yeah, he was really proud of what he could add.” He handed one to Shiro, and the two moved to the park._

 

“ _Hey Takashi? Can I ask you something?”  
_ “ _Yeah? What's up?”  
_ “ _I heard that...you and Haruka were going on a date. Is that true?” He looked to Shiro, who balked at the insinuation, “n-no way! She's nice but, no, nope. Where'd you hear that?”  
_ “ _Akane and Fumiko told me. They said you were going on a library date?”  
_ “ _Oh. Oh, I thought you meant a date-date. We're going to the library because she said she's stuck on some history bits, and after that she asked to go to the cat cafe, but that's all.”  
_ “ _Ahh, you're so oblivious! She's been crushing you since we started middle school, and you agreed? She probably thinks you like her!”  
_ “ _Oh no,” Shiro slumped forward, “should I cancel it?”  
_ “ _You can't lead her on, Takashi, but be nice, not like you were with Akiko.”  
_ “ _But girls are gross and she got too handsy.” Shiro leaned in to his arm as Makoto patted his shoulder. “Such a heart-breaker.”  
_ “ _I don't want to break the girl's hearts.”  
_ “ _You'd rather break the boy's?”  
_ “ _Yeah,” Shiro pulled himself up, scratching his neck. “I'm being serious,” he stole a glance at Makoto, who sat with their mouth agape. “Can you not tell my mum?”  
_ “ _So long as you don't tell mine.” Shiro whipped his head around, his breath catching when peach-flavoured lips pressed against his. He poked his tongue against them, not entirely certain what he was doing. Kissing looked so much easier in videos._

 

“Shiro, are you okay? Do your lips hurt?”  
“Huh, what?” Shiro realised he was touching his mouth with metal fingers. He looked down at the arm, which visually looked exactly the same as the previous one, but had been upgraded. With what, he didn't know, but perhaps it was the internal stuff that the witch and Ulaz were talking about. “Y-yeah, I was just remembering something from like, ten Earth-years ago.”  
“Anything nice?” Ulaz asked as he shone a light into his eye.  
“It was my first ever kiss.” He listened to the little chuckle Ulaz made in the back of his throat. “I don't remember mine any more. I imagine it was terrible.”  
“I think they all are,” Shiro rubbed his eyes when Ulaz pulled away, typing something into his data pad.

 

“I still can't believe I've been out for a movement, and the eyes are doing the stupid glow again.” He smashed his fist into the side of the table, flinching at the indent he left. “Sorry, I didn't mean to use that much force.” Ulaz wandered over, pulling his hand up and looking at the table. He made some more notes and moved to the terminal. “Is...is everything okay?” Shiro dutifully followed, brushing his fingers against Ulaz's back. He sighed heavily, settling down on the floor. Shiro mirrored him, looking up.

 

“It has been a difficult movement – a very difficult movement.”  
“What's happened?”  
“There's too much to go over, but,” Ulaz stared hard at the floor, then brought his gaze back up to Shiro, “the biggest one involves High Command.” He watched Shiro's face drop and he went to open his mouth. “The Commander is as fine as he can be.” That seemed to stop him. “Recall the incident that started with Zestera. Well,” Ulaz swallowed, “Zarkon was irate. Every commander bar Quartermaster Janka was hauled in-”  
“Even-”  
“Yes, even the Commander. You see, Zarkon thinks that you and the others should have stopped them, and that, to him, stems from bad ownership. So, aside from torturing them himself, they have been down here, with the Druids-”  
“I need to see him.”  
“You can't.”  
“I _have_ to, Ulaz, he's my Commander, I've got to go to him, it's my duty-”  
“You can't see him because he is with the Emperor.” Ulaz's voice was hard and stern, and Shiro backed down reluctantly. “How do you know how he is?”  
“Haxus. Regardless, that's only the start of it.”  
“The start?” Shiro's face paled and Ulaz sucked in air through his teeth and scratched his mohawk.

 

“Nadiva and Ranveig.” He watched Shiro automatically tense at the names. His lips drew back and Ulaz had to grab his shoulders as he slowly started raising his fists. “Ranveig, at least, has been demoted from High Command, and will be banished out to the front lines until he either finds the Lions, or dies.”  
“Wait, what?”  
“There has been another video in circulation where you and Zestera are both engaged with them in compromising positions.”  
“We were...Nadiva, he...he's dead now.”  
“Yes, you killed him in the arena,” Ulaz looked down at Shiro's hands. “However, he was demoted because of the additional friction he has apparently been causing during meetings.”  
“How do you know?” Shiro looked up to Ulaz as he rose from the floor.  
“Haxus, again.” Ulaz turned off the displays and motioned Shiro to follow him back to the table. “Sendak castrated him. It's why he is still with the Emperor – he should have requested an honour duel, not gone straight for him like he did.”  
“He done it because of what Ranveig did to me?”  
“Yes,” Ulaz checked his communicator and smoothed his fur. “We've also been at each other's throats. Shiro, we cannot engage in relations for a while. I need to keep my distance.” He watched Shiro put two and two together. He stared at the table for a long while. “I understand. I don't want you to be castrated, or dead.”  
“He knows we care about each other. He will go after you if we do anything. Know though,” he grabbed Shiro's shoulders, pressing his claws in, “that for anything that may happen, I care about you unconditionally and will continue to do all in my power to help you.”

 

“Don't worry about me, Ulaz,” Shiro raised his prosthetic arm, grinning, “I'm the Champion again now, right? I think I can hold my own pretty well.”  
“I'm being deadly serious, Shiro. You may have the physical strength, and are so, so strong to have undergone what you have, but there are forces you've not seen yet, and I...I'm scared for you.”  
“Why...Ulaz, what's going on?” Shiro felt the fight rise in him, until they turned to see the door open and the witch stalk in, flanked by two of the masked aliens – the Druids.

 

“He is of use?”  
“Yes, High Priestess.” Ulaz pulled away sharply. She glanced between the two, taking stock of the Champion that stood before her. “Activate your arm, Champion.” She watched as he did as instructed. Her gaze flicked down as a burst of darker energy crackled around the hand, and it glowed more magenta in colour. She studied him stare at it, a small grin upon his face. “Did you fix it, High Priestess?” He offered her a bow, which she ignored. “It has been improved. How does it feel?”  
“A lot better,” he moved away from the officer, keeping his hand flat and slashing it about like a sword. “Thank you, High Priestess.”  
“You have proven yourself worthy.” She moved forward towards his bowed figure. “You will follow me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started Chapter 34, and I can confirm it's going to be a Shendak-centric chapter. Will be a bit of torturous stuff, but get ready for more porns. Zarkon may be at the end of it, but it depends at present. For those hoping for some Shiro/Zarkon smut, I can promise you you will receive soon enough.
> 
> I've also realised we're more than half way through the fic - more like 3/4ish or so of part 1. I'm a mix of excited and not, because I don't want it to end, but really want to get to the Sheith interactions because I have so many awful...terrible ideas.
> 
> I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you next one!


	34. Collared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos, and for still reading this god-forsaken thing!
> 
> General notes: there's some torture this chapter, memories (woo!), and porn. Some Adashi and Shendak! What a contrast hah. Weirdly had an issue with writing this Shendak and I think it's because it's just off the back of everything/what's planned. I'm not certain.
> 
> Otherwise it takes place over a few days, the non-memories anyway.

“ _You wanted to see me, Commander Iverson?”  
_ “ _Take a seat, cadet.” Iverson sat behind a large desk, and Shiro quickly moved to the offered seat, settling rigidly. “You don't need to sit at attention, relax.” Shiro visibly relaxed as Iverson checked the details on the screen in front of him, then turned his attention fully to Shiro. He was worried he'd be in trouble, but had no idea for what. The guy was pretty scary with how gruff and imposing he was, and he wasn't used to this yet._

 

“ _It's been a week since you came here, and I just want to check on how you're settlin' in.”  
_ “ _T-Thank you, Commander Iverson. It is all very loud – busy – it's strange but everyone is friendly...they're very friendly.”  
_ “ _Are you comfortable with that, or do you need me to remind the others, generally of course, about personal boundaries?” He watched the cadet mutter in Japanese before shaking his head. “I do not mind. I am going to try and learn more about American social customs, it is all just very different compared to home.”  
_ “ _We do have the international students support group if you don't know.”  
_ “ _I do, thank you. I have already...signed up?” It was noticeable he was struggling with some words, but he'd give the kid kudos for how much he was trying. English was a bitch of a language.  
_ “ _That's correct. We can give you some extra lessons or time with work if you're struggling with the language.”  
_ “ _Thank you, Commander Iverson, but one of the boys in my group, Adam, he has offered to help me.” He noticed the small blush on the cadet's cheeks, and gave a curt nod. “Excellent. If everythin's fine, we'll have a catch up next week. From now on, I'm you liaison, so if you have any queries, come pester me.” Iverson offered his hand, and Shiro took it, giving it a firm shake._

 

Shiro rubbed his eyes, blinking. **“I didn't sleep, did I?”  
** “ **No, you have been quietly staring into space.”  
** “ **I see.”** Shiro carefully traced his hand over Sendak's chest, **“we've both got some nasty scars.”  
** “ **I can agree with that sentiment, however these,”** Sendak motioned to the fresh scars over his chest, **“I wear them with pride, like you should.”** As he said it, he pulled Shiro closer into his chest protectively. **“You kept to what you said all those phoebs ago. If I gave you loyalty, you'd return it.”  
** “ **I am a man of my honour.”  
** “ **Did it hurt, with the Emperor and Druids torturing you?”  
** “ **I do not consider it torture, only just punishment for my outbursts, and my negligence for not teaching you about your place regarding the Emperor as thoroughly as I thought.”  
** “ **Are you going to punish me?”  
** “ **Yes.”  
** “ **Should I go along to the cell?”** Shiro went to move but Sendak's grip tightened around his body. **“No. I have a different type in mind.”** Sendak lifted him from his chest and turned him so his back brushed up against the wet fur, planting his feet on the bottom of the bath.

 

He walked Champion a few paces into the water pinning the prosthetic arm to his back. **“You seem to enjoy your punishments a little too much, I don't imagine you will enjoy this.”** Sendak purred as he pushed his claws into the back of Champion's thick hair, twisting it in his hand. With a kick to the back of his legs, he forced his head under the water, and held him in place. Champion thrashed under the hold, his unencumbered limbs striking the water as air bubbles surfaced and popped around his submerged head. Sendak pulled his head up, hearing him cough and splutter as he tried to gasp in large lungfuls of air. Sendak allowed his breathing to regulate for a few dobosh's, and then did it again.

 

After another few times, he finally spoke. **“Tell me, Champion, who is your ultimate master?”  
** “ **You, Commander!”** Champion's voice was gripped with fear as he hyperventilated, looking fearfully at the water. **“Incorrect.”** Sendak did it again. Once time was up, he asked again. This time Champion responded correctly. **“If the Emperor is your ultimate master, then what must you do to please him?”  
** “ **I must...protect?”  
** “ **Correct,”** Sendak gave his cheek a lick, tasting a salty tear. He pushed Champion back down again, only for a tick longer. He came back up wheezing, grabbing his chest with the organic hand, trying to whine as he hacked up the water. **“You must also do everything within your power to please him. If he deems it worthy to punish or educate you, you will take it with grace and gratitude. His word is the ultimate law and truth, and as your master, I _command_ you to obey and lay your life down for him. You wish to be more like us, yes?”  
**“ **Yes, Commander, I'll...I'll,”** Champion coughed and his body convulsed to the point he was striking his chest to breathe. Sendak patted the top of his back carefully, and the slave brought up more bathwater. **“You'll what?”** Sendak craned Champion's head back as far as it would go. **“I'll accept death if he commanded it! He is my Emperor, I'm his as much as yours. Please, please, I understand.”** Sendak tilted his head around, noting the small pupils and eyes blown wide open. His chest panted heavily as water ran down his skin. It was a little alluring to see him like this. Sendak purred as he caught his neck. **“You are a good boy.”** He thrust Champion back into the water, the man screaming before he started thrashing again. Sendak held him down until the body fell still. He pulled Champion out, checking his neck for a pulse; he was alive, just passed out. Smoothing the wet hair away, he brushed his claws across his unresponsive face, scowling at the gash across his nose. He did not like this reminder.

 

-

 

“ _Are you sure you're okay with me doing this? If you don't want to-”  
_ “ _I've got my preferences, but for you, I'm happy to give it another go, Adam,” Shiro brought him in for a deep kiss, wrapping his legs around Adam's hips and pressing him closer, easing his boyfriend's nerves with the gentle coaxing. “I just don't want it to hurt you like-”  
_ “ _Just shut up and kiss me,” Shiro pushed his fingers into the thick hair, kneading them against Adam's scalp as he brought him down for a kiss. “You worry too much,” he murmured, groaning softly when Adam worried his bottom lip with his teeth._

 

_Shiro felt warm hands press against his chest. Fingers dragged themselves down his skin, stopping to lightly pinch and twist his nipples. Shiro arched his back and gasped out, bringing his arm up to bury his face within it. “Don't be so shy.” Adam chided affectionately, pushing it away. “I want to see your face.” He leaned down, running the flat of his tongue down his chest, tugging lightly with his teeth at the hairs that trailed down his abdomen. Shiro groaned, pushing his head down further. “Please,” he cracked his eyes open as Adam gripped his cock, teasing the tip before lowering himself down. Shiro pushed his hips from the bed, moaning out for more._

 

 _He felt the plug move further inside while fingers pushed their way between his, entwining their hands together. “Gonna move it, mmkay?”  
_ “ _Y-Yeah,” Shiro focused on his breathing and Adam's gentle touch as he moved the plug slowly within him, building up a slow rhythm that in turn made his ass and lower back feel hot. He slowly rocked his hips in time with Adam's movements, letting small whines and whispers escape his lips as his boyfriend tenderly caressed his body, planting little kisses and nips along his neck._

 

“ _You're doing so well. Is it good?”  
_ “ _Yeah,” Shiro licked his lips, turning up to Adam who gave him a soft smile. “Can you...can we,” Shiro watched him nod, the small chuckle stirring him up. “For someone so confident normally, you do get flustered so easily,” he moved down between Shiro's thighs, nudging the sensitive skin so they'd spread further apart. Shiro felt him tease the plug out slowly, offering a warning again. He focused on Adam's face as he took deep breaths, letting his body relax so the extraction didn't hurt as much. He watched Adam put it to the side, and grab the small bottle of lube. He quickly applied some to himself, and smoothed some more around Shiro, taking his time to thoroughly lather him up. Shiro bucked his hips and writhed under the touch of his fingers curling up and scissoring him looser, until he felt them exit his body and something hot press against him._

 

“ _Do it,” Shiro pressed himself against the tip, and Adam steadied himself as he pushed in, groaning out loudly in satisfaction. “Please...let me do this more. You feel...amazing.”  
_ “ _We'll see,” Shiro shifted his hips into a more comfortable position, steadily bringing Adam down to kiss him again. He hissed as the angle changed, but allowed him to remain inside until he was content with the feeling. “Can I move?”  
_ “ _Yeah, just be gentle with me,” Shiro whispered into his mouth, before letting out a husky moan as Adam pushed himself in deeper, his fingers curling around Shiro's cock._

 

-

 

Shiro couldn't see anything but a white glow. He pulled his arm to find it held firmly in place. _What's happening? Why can't I move?_ He tried to bring all his limbs in, but found they too were restrained. He growled out in frustration, trying to rip his prosthetic arm away from whatever was hampering his movements but with no luck. “Fuck sake!” He growled, flopping down into the sheets. _Wait, sheets?_ He groped around, realising he was at minimum on a bed. _Whose bed?_ That was a good question. He remembered he was in the bath, but then after he- his whole body jerked, and he pulled himself in as close as he could, wrists and ankles aching. _He was drowning us._ No, it was a punishment. _Not again, not again._ Then we need to listen to him. _But Zarkon is...he's terrifying._ We have to do it, we may not like it, but we have to. He's our Emperor now.

 

Sendak had been watching Champion for a while. It was good he'd finally woken up - a varga later then he had estimated. He rotated the collar in his hands. He'd got the thing updated to be more in line with the times; specifically regarding location tracking. In the event of any further escape attempts, even if that was unlikely by this point since his flight response had mostly – if not completely – gone since formal reconditioning started. No, it was if he had any more issues like the Yastara incident again. Considering he would be going away by the end of next movement on Zarkon's orders, he wanted to keep an eye on his Champion while he was away from Central Command. More fleets had been attacked by the cannon after a period of reprieve, so it was possible the thing had been upgraded.

 

Shiro felt the mattress depress, instinctively bringing his head up to see what was going on, then cursing again. He twitched when he felt something slip around the base of his cock; it was cold against his cool skin. “What the fuck are you doing?” He growled, curling his lips back. His reply came in the form of his nostrils being pinched, and as he went to suck in air, something circular, metal, and cold was forced in. His head was roughly moved, and what he could only guess was a gag, was clipped together.

 

“I think Lieutenant Haxus might like seeing you like this. Should I show him?” Sendak observed Champion try and fail to speak until he gave a defeated nod of agreement. He grinned to himself as he snapped a few pictures with the communicator and sent them, then set it beside his leg as he took the small bottle. He squeezed out the contents and rubbed his fingers against Champion's hole. With no warning, Sendak pushed them inside. Champion's body twitched under the intrusion, but he still pressed himself against the touch. He was a good, obedient pet. “Do you think Officer Ulaz may like this too?” He couldn't contain his purr as Champion's walls tensed around his fingers. He made a variety of flustered noises with his throat, but there was no definitive yes or no – because he didn't _want_ to hear an answer. “I'm sorry,” Sendak purred as he pressed deeper, earning a strange moan, “but I can't understand you.” He watched Champion try and growl in the restraints as he poorly flailed about. “Since he decided to mark you, I think he would enjoy seeing you like this. I must say,” Sendak pushed another two fingers inside down to the knuckle, “I was a little surprised he was brash enough to. He is usually so submissive.” Sendak brought up the communicator again, setting it to record Champion writhe and make garbled noises as Sendak finger-fucked him slowly.

 

“I suspect you want something more, don't you?” Sendak finally asked after a few dobosh's. Shiro vigorously nodded as he breathed through his mouth, jaw aching already. He wanted to fight back, or at minimum return to sexually-charged aggression between them, but he felt so _small_ from the humiliation. Ulaz may've seen his memories, they may've slept together, but this felt different – it'd be as if he'd shown Matt or worse, Keith. They didn't need to see him, not like this. The idea that they'd see him _enjoy_ it made it so much worse, and it didn't matter how much he pleaded – if he even could – because Sendak would overrule him. _You shouldn't be thinking like this; be a good boy, a good pet. He knows better than us. Ulaz will probably enjoy seeing how well you're getting on._ He raised his hips as he felt something smooth press against his entrance, the slickness entering without an issue, and he pushed himself against it as he moaned through the ring. Everything felt more sensitive with the lack of sight, and Shiro couldn't understand why as his body twitched when it came to life, the low vibrations increasing sharply in intensity.

 

The chains rattled as Champion fucked himself on the vibrator. At this point, Sendak was just holding it in place, listening to the dry moans and hisses that left his mouth while leisurely affixing the bell to the piercing. He gave the skin a flick with his claws, earning a harsh grunt of pain, contrasted by the soft jingle. “With your coarse words as of late, I'm sure you are cursing me,” he mused, giving the vibrator a sharp thrust inwards, “and with those eyes I suspect you'd be scowling, wanting to bite and claw and grab at me,” he smiled at the careful nod, “however, _Champion_ , I thought to reward your victory under similar circumstances as the first time. It should yield much better results now we're better acquainted.” Champion responded by planting his feet as best he could into the mattress and forcing himself along the length of the vibrator roughly, the bell jingling along with every movement of his hips. Sendak leaned over his body, running his tongue from the base of his neck up. “I'm glad you agree,” he purred.

 

Shiro knew the second the weight lifted from between his legs what he was going to do, and he was proved correct when fingers tugged at his fringe. Between all the saliva dribbling from the side of his mouth or it naturally drying out in the air, his throat felt rough as Sendak pushed himself in. He gagged around it, at least creating specks of saliva for lubrication, he supposed. He at least started at a slower pace, likely due to the ring it must be pushed through, and judging from the breathy growls above him it was likely the case. Shiro managed to release his own pleasured growl, because no matter how much right now he didn't want it this way, he still enjoyed every tick of Sendak pushing deeper, the ridges that moved along his tongue, and that musky scent that burned his nose, but he hadn't been able to deny for phoebs now. The glow behind the blindfold flickered as he could feel his eyes roll back in his head, just _succumbing_ to it all as the stuttering vibrator was thrust further in and his own swollen cock ached from the stimulation.

 

Sendak didn't come down his throat, but he could taste the sharp precome. He did remove the gag, and Shiro finally was able to relax his jaw. “You seem to be enjoying yourself. This,” Sendak stroked his cock slowly, flicking the bell again, “looks very painful.”  
“It is, Commander,” Shiro breathed, licking his lips as the vibrator twisted inside him. Shiro hoarsely moaned, drawing his arms in until the restraints went taut. He pressed the side of his face into the sheets, feeling his brow knit together as he tried to draw his legs up. He needed to move, the stimulation was bringing him too close and his cock hurt from the restriction; he needed release, it was too much.

 

Between the noises Champion made, the bell, and the wet noises from his lubricated body, Sendak couldn't help but purr in satisfaction as his legs scrabbled against the sheets. With no warning, he removed the vibrator and ran his claws along his thighs. Champion growled loudly, smashing his fist into the mattress. “Just _fuck me_ , Commander.”  
“Was that an order, _Champion?_ ” Sendak watched his lips draw up and his head tilt to the side. He had an idea what expression he was giving him as he raised his hips as high as he could, “I didn't realise I fucking stuttered.”  
“You dare speak to me like that?” Sendak sneered, digging his claws into his hips. Champion let out a laugh that pitched higher than normal as he dropped them and licked his lips again. “I'm _so sorry_ , Commander, I don't know why I'd try and purposefully rouse your temper,” his sultry laughter was a delight to Sendak's ears, “please, don't _hurt me_.” There was the mock-fear as he tried to draw his legs together.

 

Shiro felt them pushed apart, and counted the fingers that were pushed back in again; four in total. He let his head tilt back as he arched his back, exposing his jugular. “Are you trying to bait me into biting you?” Sendak leaned over his body, drawing organic fingers back into his hair. His breath was hot against Shiro's ear, and he felt his body temperature rise in anticipation as Sendak ran his tongue down his neck. He groaned out, rolling his hips into the fingers. “W-Well that depends, Commander. I didn't think you l-liked others dirtying me with their marks.”  
“That is true, however it is whether I _wish_ to.”  
“Well, that's up to y-you,” Shiro shivered as teeth grazed the skin above his collar bone and Sendak's purr reverberated in his stomach. He craved him, and after everything recently, he needed safety, and Sendak was the only one who could provide that. It wasn't like a bite mark would fix it, he needed the collar, but something animalistic kept pulling him back towards the bites, and he wasn't certain why any more.

 

Too lost in thought, he hadn't realised the restraints were lax. It wasn't until his arms were pinned together, and the fingers were removed, did he realise Sendak was re-cuffing them above his head. He went to open his mouth, but Sendak kissed him to stop the words escaping his throat. He toyed with Sendak's bottom lip between his teeth, chuckling as he growled above him. “Perhaps I should have left you gagged?” He trailed a hand down Shiro's chest and pinched at one of the nipple piercings, making him groan out in pain. _It felt good_. “You'd miss me being noisy,” Shiro couldn't help but challenge it, and claws that ripped over his hip bone was the reward he'd been looking for. He couldn't help but buck them.

 

Sendak quickly made short work of the restraints around his ankles, but after flipping him to his stomach and raising his rear up into a suitable position, Shiro felt them reattached and pulled exceedingly tight so his only options were to fall flat on his stomach or push back into him. He could feel something cold and metal wrap around his wrists as they were pulled and tied in a chain at a guess. His arms were roughly pushed underneath his chest, and then the warmth of Sendak's body disappeared. Shiro tried to readjust his weight on his hands, already feeling them numb and tingle. Mid-shuffle, clawed fingers pushed behind his hair and peeled away the blindfold. Shiro grunted, screwing his eyes shut at the light. “I thought you might like to see something,” he purred in his ear as his chin was tilted upwards. Shiro's eyes struggled to focus on what Sendak held in front of his face. He blinked a few times, grunting as he rubbed his eyes into the sheets, before looking up again. “T-That's,” he turned wide eyes to Sendak, “you...?”  
“You did as I asked,” Sendak released the catch, flicking it back and forth, “and-”  
“You're a man of your word.” Shiro answered without skipping a beat.  
Sendak ghosted it around his neck, Shiro's breath catching as he stared at it expectantly. He felt it's cold protection against his burning skin and made a throaty moan of delight as he felt it enclose around his neck.

 

“Now it is whether you can convince me why I should return it,” Sendak pulled it away, placing it a few inches from Champion's face. He brought his claws down his back slowly, enjoying the way the red lines surfaced across the skin, how his back arched as he canted his hips upwards. Sendak shifted backwards, pulling Champion's hips back as he pressed his length against his entrance. It didn't take him long to enter.

 

If Sendak had fucked him with this much fervour when they first time, Shiro imagined he'd be torn apart. He was glad he'd become so used to it, to his pace and angling, but the position did not allow for movement which meant every penetrating thrust hit its mark and he had no reprieve. All he could do was brace and howl out in pleasure, pain peppered in his voice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Each curse rolled off his tongue, increasing in volume. Shiro canted and bucked his hips, the throbbing pain in his cock ever-increasing as he was denied his orgasm.

 

“Convince me why, Champion,” Sendak panted as he leaned over his back, holding his stomach in his hand. Between the bell's jingles, Sendak's snarls and growls, their bodies striking together and Shiro's own heartbeat pumping in his ears, he was barely coherent to form sentences that didn't involve the word 'fuck'.

 

He felt teeth graze against the spot between his neck and collarbone, letting his head roll to the side. “Fuckin' mark me. I'm yours, aren't I?” Shiro mustered, before letting out a stuttered groan as his prostate was ground into. His wish was granted, albeit more painful then he could imagine. Sendak ground his teeth in so hard he wasn't sure if he was trying to rip his throat out, but he certainly felt them pierce the skin. He screamed as he was held in place, eyes glazing over as Sendak finally released him. He chuckled darkly into the bite mark, lapping at the blood as he slowed the pace, grinding himself in as deep as he could. Shiro's head dropped to the blankets panting heavily. He could feel the sweat on his back and running down his sides. “So fuckin' good.”  
“I am glad you enjoy it so.” Shiro was aware of Sendak moving, and then felt his head tilted the opposite way. He wasn't ready for the second bite that pierced the skin, and this time he howled in pain as he was held in place. “You make such wonderful noises.” The purr in his ear made his face burn and swollen cock leak. _Fuck, we have it bad._ That made it all the better. If this was what he'd get to look forward to, then he'd happily accept his life with the Galra.

 

“I yield,” Champion managed. Sendak carried on his assault, but piqued by what he yielded. “What is it?”  
“I renounce it – my humanity. I'll-” Sendak pulled Champion into his lap and grabbed his neck, he brought the bound arms around his head and stared into smouldering grey eyes that made him want to abandon any work he had planned for the next phoeb. “You'll _what_?”  
“I can't go back-” he moaned out as Sendak slammed him down, “-there. I'm t-too far gone. I-I belong here.”  
“So why do you need the collar, Champion?” He kissed him with a deep hunger that would soon be sated. As he pulled away, saliva connecting their lips, Champion pressed his body against Sendak's, “I want everyone to k-know who broke this monster, who fixed it. Y-you're my Commander and I-I'm indebted for what you've done for me.” He pushed himself down on Sendak, rolling his hips as he worked himself up, the bell jingling more and more. His body was shaking with need and want. “You're my Commander, and I'm your slave and pet to command and use as you see fit,” he screamed as Sendak thrust up in approval at the comment and watched the drool run from the corner of his mouth. “So lemme embrace this new life, at your heels on my knees – however you want me – lemme please you, Commander, _master_.” The whispered title prompting a rare purr he'd not made in many deca-phoebs.

 

Gripping his hips, Sendak gave a final push, fucking his Champion and watching him come undone in his grip. He'd overcome his last hurdle now, which meant reconditioning could be stepped up. “You are allowed to come.” He removed the cock ring and let it fall to the wayside. Sendak barely needed to touch him before he came hard, the warm substance coating his hand. As he came inside Champion himself, he forced the dirtied fingers into Champion's mouth. “Lick them clean. You've been a very good boy, so perhaps later I will let you come again.” He stroked his hair slowly as he felt the eager tongue get to work.

 

Sendak moved the two to stare at a mirror across from the bed. Carefully, Sendak reached for the collar and slowly brushed the metal against his skin. Shiro shivered, leaning back into his chest as he watched Sendak stroke the bite marks. “What a fine matching pair.”  
“Thank you, Commander.” He panted, “they're perfect.”  
“Really? Then do you need this?”  
“No, no, I do. Collar me, _please_ , I want it – I need it.”  
“But why, Champion. You're so strong,” Sendak teased. Shiro tensed, and tilted his head up. “Commander, I need it because I need _you_. I want everyone to know you own me.” Sendak's eye narrowed for a tick, before the cold metal snapped closed around his neck. Pulling Shiro off his cock, and turning him around, Sendak pressed their lips together, falling back into the sheets.

 

-

 

“You battled well in the arena, Champion.” Shiro sucked in a sharp breath as the boots stopped before him. “Rise.” Shiro obeyed without hesitation as he stared up at Zarkon. “Such confidence in your eyes.” Zarkon glanced to Sendak, then back to him, “as you were victorious, you gain a single favour from me. What is it you desire?” Shiro smiled to himself as he raised his head high. Everything was agreed, it just rested with the Emperor. Taking a deep breath, Shiro spoke; “I want to request the freedom of Prisoner 117-9876: Matthew Holt, and his guaranteed safe passage back to Earth.”

 

Zarkon studied the human before him. It was uncommon this happened. “Is this truly what you desire?”  
“Yes, my Emperor.” Champion bowed low to him, and Zarkon glanced again to his old charge, then back to Champion. “It is an easy request, and it will be seen to.”  
“Sire, would you allow me to tell him in person?”  
“Why?”  
“I need to sever my human bonds by my own hand so I can focus on what is important – the Empire.”  
“You may see him on one condition.” Zarkon moved back towards the throne, settling down and looking between the two. “While Commander Sendak is away from Central Command, you will come to any and all summons I request of you.” He watched Champion turn to Sendak, who gave him a sharp nod. Zarkon watched Champion bow again to him, “I am at your beck and call. It would be an honour.” Zarkon tapped his claws against the throne. “Then come and kneel at my heel.”

 

Shiro let his feet carry him; Sendak had advised him, but hadn't mentioned this part at all, not even half-way through fucking like he usually did with useful information. He cast a look back at Sendak, who wore the biggest smirk on his face, and Shiro turned, looking into the glowing eyes of his new Emperor. He heard him fiddle with his armour, and after moving his guard, pushed Shiro roughly against his groin. “You will service me with your mouth.”  
“Yes, Sire.” Shiro breathed, finally gauging what the thing looked like sober. He swore mentally as he cast his gaze over it; there was certainly girth there. He carefully took it in his hand, finding there was no foreskin, just what was in front of him. The tip curved up into a point – not sharp presently, but when erect it'd likely hurt. Along the shaft, which was wider in the middle before it nipped in slightly, there were intermittent raised bumps, whereas the underside had them all close together – just larger. He took the tip in his mouth, Zarkon not making a sound, and slowly began working his tongue against the rough bumps. He ran his hands down the length, twisting and roughly stroking it. Considering Sendak didn't do gentle, he doubted Zarkon was the same.

 

Sendak couldn't be happier as he watched Champion work himself steadily for their Emperor. His ears twitched as he picked up the small noises of contentment from Champion, and as Zarkon carded his claws through his hair lazily, pushing his head down further to take more. “Commander Sendak,” he looked up, motioning him over. Blindly he moved forwards, dropping to one knee in front of the only being he'd consider close to being a god so far as he was concerned. “Is this prisoner of any worth to us?”  
“No. Just a merge worker.”  
“The planet?”  
“Although space-faring, not a threat. Our technologies would destroy them.”  
“Then it will be allowed. You will remain. I need you for business.”  
“I understand.”  
“One more thing,” Zarkon got more comfortable and Sendak realised what he was about to ask. “Bend the knee.” Sendak did, and Zarkon pulled him over with ease by the ear. He pushed Champion off and forced his fingers into his mouth. “Watch your master, Champion. This is they type of compliance I require.” He snapped his claws, and Sendak instinctively moved forward, taking Zarkon's length in his mouth. His other ear flicked at the almost inaudible gasp Champion made, but it didn't matter any more. He would finally allow him this knowledge.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was a ride small ride, hah.
> 
> Finally some fucking Sharkon! I'm adding it to the tags now because we're gonna get some more :)
> 
> Next chapter should be fun to write...have too many ideas though because urgh.
> 
> My time from now until next week is gonna be patchy for writing because I need to do some coursework for work, so updates on everything is going to be slow at best. Not sure but would rather pre-warn you all.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Can't wait to hear from you ^^


	35. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a VERY long chapter and I guess quite emotional. 
> 
> It's annoying because I had about three ways this could go (one involved a Haxus/Shiro/Matt, another had a Matt/Shiro, and the biggest thing in this chapter playing out differently). Hell, I also toyed between strengthening or destroying their friendships. I'll let you find out where I went.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos, and I hope you thoroughly enjoy this chapter.

“ _You wanted to see me?”  
_ _Shiro raised his head from the papers he was reading, offering Keith a smile as he collected them and placed them neatly to the side. “Ah, Keith! I did, please, pull up a chair. You're not in trouble,” he tacked on the latter as he noted he was tugging anxiously at the cuffs of his orange jacket. He offered Shiro a bashful smile as he perched on the chair, eyes quickly scanning around the pokey office. “I've not long made Lieutenant, but if I make Commander I'll actually get a decent-sized office. Do you want a drink? Tea, coffee, water?”  
_ “ _Just water, thanks.” Keith raised his eyes from the desk to Shiro, who gave him a warm look in return. “I know it's scary being here, when I first came to America it was a massive change. I know it's not the same set of circumstances, but it'll get better.” Shiro motioned he was going to quickly step out, and Keith nodded._

 

 _He set the water down in front of him, and settled back into his chair, wincing a little at the pain that flared in his legs. “How're you doing?”  
_ “ _Fine, I guess.”  
_ “ _You guess?” Shiro cocked an eyebrow and Keith looked down at his lap. “I'm still...I don't understand why you brought me here. I'm a screw-up; I'm not cut out for this.” He screwed his eyes shut and pulled himself inward. Shiro suppressed a sigh. He'd explained a few times already to Keith about why he was perfect and cut-out for the Garrison, but it wasn't his fault. Being in-and-out of different foster homes and getting suspended and expelled from schools hadn't helped his self-worth or esteem, and the effects of that emotional neglect sat toying with their sleeves in front of him. Shiro collected himself and patted the desk, Keith breaking out of the spell he was under to look up. “You have so much natural talent for flying, Keith, and I don't say that lightly. Your scores in the simulator were amazing, and since you've been here and practised some more, they're even better. I believe you could exceed my own scores at your age one day.”_

 

 _Keith looked up, eyes wide. “N-No way. You hold so many records here...I couldn't beat those!”  
_ “ _Well, if you keep practising, you'll thrash them in no time,” Shiro's face lit up, and Keith's lips tugged upward, before dropping again. “The others are...difficult. They keep saying things.” Keith glared into his lap, chewing his lip as if he was debating on telling Shiro what. “If you can't say it out loud, you can write it down if you like? I'll help you as best I can settle in, but I also won't pry if you don't want me to. Pretty much I've got the confirmation I'm definitely going to be your mentor.” Shiro studied the teenager in front of him, who slowly reached for the glass of water and took a sip. “Can you promise you won't be mad?”  
_ “ _Of course I won't be mad, Keith.”  
_ “ _Promise me,” Keith gave him a sharp look, and Shiro allowed it.  
_ “ _I promise.” He watched Keith nod slowly and glance up. “They keep saying I,” he averted his eyes in shame, “I put out for you. I'm only here because I be-”  
_ “ _I think I know where this is going.” As gently as possible, Shiro shut it down. “Although we know they're lying, I am going to have to ask you if you could write a statement, if that's okay. I need to report this, just in case someone else overhears only a part of the conversation and we both get called in.”  
_ “ _W-What would happen?” Keith brought his gaze back to Shiro. He cleared his throat as he leaned back in his chair. “Firstly, you'd be given a new mentor, and have a lot of questions asked. For me? I'd be suspended from duties until a thorough investigation was completed. At worst I'd be shipped out to another base for a while. Accusations like that can be career-breakers.” Quietly, Shiro raged internally at the other cadets. It was jealousy on their part, of course, but the insinuations it made sounded like they came from the 20_ th or 21st centuries. “Are you okay with doing that?” Although he was serious, he didn't want to frighten the anxious kid in front of him. Slowly, Keith nodded in agreement. “I don't want you to be in trouble. You're...okay.” He glanced up at Shiro through thick eyelashes and let his lips tug upwards a minimal amount.

 

Shiro couldn't concentrate on the passage he was trying to read, and set the book down. He couldn't focus after their visit to the Emperor earlier and seeing Sendak so compromised. He pulled out the braid and raked his fingers through the tangles and knots, just trying to comprehend it. He'd looked _happy_ and it confused him to no end how he could be. Sure it was likely the mentorship thing, but it'd been thousands of deca-phoebs long and he couldn't grasp how after all that time he could look like that. It was annoying, and he was frustrated that the one thing he'd wanted to do was ruined. He stared down at the new table as he rose, not certain what had become of the old one, and wandered through the quarters until he reached the office door. He knocked, waiting to see if Sendak would open up.

 

“Enter,” he turned around to watch Champion poke his head around the door cautiously. He frowned, sitting up straighter, “I thought you were reading.”  
“I can't focus.” He padded over to the desk and leaned against it, arms folded as he stared at Sendak. “I don't get it.”  
“Get what?”  
“If you've been,” Champion rotated his wrist, a thing he did when he was trying to think, “blowing the Emperor for a million deca-phoebs-”  
“It's been a tad over ten thousand-”  
“That somehow makes it worse. But yeah, how are you – or him – just not...bored?”  
“What are you asking me, Champion?” Sendak tapped his claws against the desk in annoyance. Champion hoisted himself up, crossing a leg over the other.  
“It's not like it happens frequently, but it is common in mentorships for this to happen. Officially, my mentorship ended a few thousand deca-phoebs ago.” Sendak explained.  
“I struggle to wrap my head around the time, but also 'cause humans don't live nearly that long. Like, empires have risen and fell in no time at all for you.” Champion laid himself on his side on Sendak's desk. Of course he was in _this_ mood again.

 

“How long do humans live for?” It'd be useful to know how long he had with his slave. Champion cocked an eyebrow and barked out a laugh. “With medicine back there, maybe a hundred earth-years? Otherwise somewhere between eighty or ninety. I think I've probably aged a year here already.”  
“Remind me of your age.”  
“I'm guessing I'm twenty-five now.”  
“It hasn't been a full deca-phoeb,” Sendak frowned at him, and Champion rolled onto his back, toying with his data pad absently. “Nah, if I have it right, a phoeb is just over two earth-months. You maybe have fifty or sixty deca-phoebs with me, although I'd be past the point of any use to you way before then.”  
“Not if we can extend your lifespan.” Champion paused, placing the data pad down and rolling back to his side. “I'll just get older and more decrepit.”  
“Am I?”  
“Well-”  
“Champion.”  
“No. I don't know what you looked like when you were younger, but I guess you're...alright by Galra standards?” Champion scratched his cheek, “you're not wrinkly is what I'm saying.” Sendak let his head roll back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose, “if we didn't need you on quintessence to heal right, I would agree with Ulaz and ban you from it. You are a pain when you're desperate for a scrap.” He looked at Champion's still glowing eyes. He chuckled darkly as he sat up, gazing at him over his shoulder, “don't deny you don't like me like this.”  
“I do,” Sendak purred, “just not when I have work to do. You are distracting.” He tugged Champion from the desk and pushed him to the floor, “either stay there quietly, or find something to do.” He felt Champion settle against his thigh, wrapping himself possessively around Sendak's leg.

 

“What prompted your query about my relationship with the Emperor?” Sendak finally asked. “I remembered the kit I was mentoring,” Champion answered slowly, “back there, mentoring doesn't involve that level of intimacy.”  
“But you are in a position of power. How do you educate and bond?” Sendak looked down at the glowing eyes, “through support and nurturing. He was also a kit, and anything that happened would be wrong.”  
“Even the Galra balk at the idea of mentorships involving kits.” Sendak mused.  
“I guess that's something we share, huh?”  
“I guess it is.” Sendak turned his attention back to the data pad for a tick. “If they were older, do you think you would have?” There was a long pause from Champion, and Sendak looked back down again at the frown on his face. “Champion?”  
“I'm honestly not sure any more.”  
“It's not an outright no, then.” Sendak ruffled his hair and returned to work.

 

-

 

“Haxus.”  
“ _Lieutenant_ Haxus _,_ Champion,” Haxus sighed at the lounging Champion, who was a few feet in front of him on the ground. “Can I go back and train?”  
“No. The training dummies need repairing.”  
“Is it still not done?” He groaned, shooting him a sharp stare. Haxus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “no, they won't be done for another few vargas. Can't you just lay there, quietly?”  
“Nope. Bored.”  
“That's not my problem. If you don't look after your toys, they break.” The audible huff made Haxus feel both amused and irritated at the same time. On one hand; seeing the shift from the silent disdain and attempted detachment to this brash, almost devil-may-care attitude over the phoebs made Haxus's lips twist upwards, because they _both_ knew the consequences of extended disrespect and his button-pushing. For now, Haxus would allow petulance because he was wound up he couldn't train. On the other hand, Haxus was irritated _because_ of this behaviour. Sendak had failed to mention this progression to him, perhaps due to the impending return to the ship, or because he wanted to see how Haxus dealt with him as, ultimately, an unruly prisoner. Regardless of Sendak's rationale, Haxus was trusted enough to have free reign around him, just so long as he didn't come inside his ass or maim him.

 

Shiro's body jolted as the electricity surged through him. He cast Haxus a glare. “What was that for?”  
“A warning,” Haxus's tone was even as he spoke through the smirk. “You may amuse me, but if you continue to be a pain in the rear, I'll give you a pain in yours.”  
“I bet you'd like that-” He yelped again at the next shock, grabbing at the collar with one hand and smoothing his hair down with the prosthetic. “I will put you in solitary. Do remember your roots as a _prisoner_.” Shiro drew his lips back in a frustrated snarl and flopped over to stare out the window. Jolting again when another current racked his body. “Oh, sit up properly. Unless you've become a concubine in the last quintant, you shouldn't lay like one...well, unless you plan on servicing the crew here.” Shiro groaned as he sat up on his knees and straightened out his back. He heard Haxus chuckle behind him, and ignored the tug at the chain that leased him to the the terminal. The cold air nipped at his exposed midriff, internally cursing Sendak for making him wear his older armour, since the new one he was gifted was in for repairs still.

 

-

 

Haxus opened the cell door and walked Shiro into the room towards the wall. “Stand,” he ordered, and Shiro complied as he felt his hands uncuffed. “Place them against the wall.” Another sharp order. His body was pressed flush against it as a knee pushed his legs apart and Shiro grunted in annoyance as he spread them. “You can't fuckin' help yourself, can you?”  
“Well,” his velvety voice was hot in his ear, “I never got to thank you for pleasing the Commander, did I? I also get to see your dear little friend again.”  
“I doubt he considers me a friend any more,” Shiro glared into the wall as he spoke, feeling warm clawed fingers trace his exposed skin. He felt him brush over the small of his back and hook into the leather around his hips.

 

“I do think your little friend would look sublime with a mark branded into him like this,” he stroked the tattoo carefully. “It is such a shame the Commander never chose to purchase him. If I could, I certainly would have. You'd have a playmate then,” Shiro's fists tightened together as he let out a low snarl. He slowly turned his head, scowling up at Haxus with his teeth bared, “don't you speak about him like that.”  
“Or what?” Haxus pressed him harder against the wall, “you can't, and won't, do anything about it. You and I have different levels of freedom, so I can just go to him, if I pleased, without your knowledge. I can have you sedated if I wanted and you'd be none the wiser if I fucked him screaming into your chest.” Shiro felt a chill run down his spine and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “I could even fuck you both unconscious, but where would be the fun in that?” He felt fingers press between his ass cheeks, swirling and poking the fabric around his entrance. “Of course it depends on my mood. Besides,” he ground his hips into Shiro's, “I do enjoy winding up my money-maker. I made a _killing_ off your arena win. But ahh, your fights; they are a treat to watch,” he simpered, “and you pleased the Commander so much. I should reward you on our way home – you can burn all your pent up fight then.” With that, Haxus fluidly moved away. Shiro listened as the footfalls grew distant. The door swished shut, and he heard the click of the lock.

 

Shiro remained where he was for a few moments before letting himself drop down to his knees, the cool press of the metal soothing the festering anger. He already hated himself for what he allowed to happen. It was his fault, and only cemented the self-loathing, and gave further rise to his acceptance he was correct to reject his human nature. If he continued to embrace it, he'd never be able to live with himself – he'd already became a husk of his former self – and the conflict had just become too overbearing it was easier to let it swallow him whole in its gaping maw then struggle against the jaws of the beast. A beast that wore his face, but with glowing yellow eyes. A beast that revelled in destruction and massacre. A beast that keened and mewled to be debased and humiliated in masochistic glee of even bigger beasts then himself. Monsters; the lot of them.

 

-

 

“ _Texting during work hours is prohibited unless it's an emergency, Lieutenant Shirogane!”  
_ _Shiro fumbled with his phone as he thrust it into his lap, whipping his head around to see none of other than Matt stood there, grin plastered over his face. “Jesus Christ, Matt. I thought you were Iverson.”  
_ “ _My impression's got good, huh?” Matt cocked an eyebrow as he shot Shiro some finger guns. He snorted, watching the message send to Adam. “Writing filth again?” Matt wandered in and perched on his desk. “No!” Shiro could see Matt was unconvinced. It all stemmed from a single incident months ago where Matt had looked over his shoulder and read a sext from Adam. That, and he was writing filth, because tonight he'd booked them a room out in the city because Adam had brought tickets to watch a play, and he'd promised him drinks at this new bar he'd found out about from Curtis afterwards._

 

“ _So, what's up?” Shiro finally asked. He'd met Matt when he was twelve, and his little sister, Katie, not long after he graduated. Sam had invited him over for a congratulatory meal with him and Colleen, since his mother couldn't afford to come over, and he briefly saw the kids. Over time, they'd adopted each other as brothers, or at least Matt seemed to have adopted him. So when he started at the Garrison, he'd come and visit Shiro's office after hours to either chat or hide to do his homework. Shiro was sure it was so he could raid his snack drawer. Matt pouted as Shiro motioned for him to get off his desk, and placed his hands on his hips._

 

“ _I'm eighteen soon.”  
_ “ _You are. Then you'll be graduating in a few months.”  
_ “ _A few of my friends and I are going out into the city, would you and Adam want to come along for birthday drinks?”  
_ “ _Are you asking if we'll drive you around?” Shiro leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “No! Really, come out with us, it'll be good.”  
_ “ _I won't be able to since Adam and I are busy your birthday weekend. However,” Shiro smiled, “I'll be visiting next week to chat to your dad about Kerberos.”_

 

“ _Imagine if we found life out there!” Matt bounced on the spot. Shiro chuckled, nodding. “It'd be crazy. So if we found aliens, what would you do?”  
_ “ _I think I'd want to get to know them. If they were pretty, well, I think I might have to try the charm offensive.”  
_ “ _Are you still that desperate to sleep with an alien?” Shiro would be cruder, but he was on-site in his office. He glanced at the door briefly. “Well wouldn't you? I'd be going where no man has gone before.”  
_ “ _Oh, I'm not sure. Some of those 'accounts' sounds like someone's beaten you to it.”  
_ “ _It's possible, but unlikely,” Matt nodded his head, completely self-assured. “Would you ever want to fuck an alien?” Shiro blinked at the directness. “I...no! I have a fiancé who I love very much. I'm sure that he'd have issues with me doing that with an alien,” Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose as his communicator vibrated. He picked it up and frowned._

 

“ _Sorry, I'm needed.”  
_ “ _Shiro?”  
_ “ _It's Keith; he's been in another fight again.”  
_ “ _It's probably James. He's a proper asshole.”  
_ “ _I know, but it's because he winds Keith up so much the kid lashes out,” Shiro exhaled sharply as he ushered Matt out. “Could you go and let Adam know I might be a bit late?”  
_ “ _Of course.” Matt waved goodbye as Shiro's power walk became a jog down the hallway. That kid was always being a dick to Keith; it was like he was trying to get him booted from the Garrison._

 

He kept to a taciturn disposition as he was collected and lead from the ship. Haxus happily greeted the warden of the planet they'd landed on, and Shiro offered a bow and engaged in light conversation only when he was addressed. It was only about his arena fights; how good he was for something so small and pathetic-looking, how the warden was happy that when they aired the title match the other prisoners cowered and became more diligent in working. She said he'd get to fight some of her worst-behaving ones soon, said she was excited to see him tear them apart with his hands. He offered her a faux smirk, said he'd rip them to shreds. They both seemed pleased with his response, before the warden motioned them to follow her.

 

Shiro raised his head to survey the area. It was overcast here; but still smelt of rain. They walked towards the looming shadow of one of the tall Galran buildings, and for a brief tick from the corner of his eye, he caught a dull grey landscape before him. The planet looked devoid of anything alive, except for whatever lived within the prison. He felt the muzzle of a blaster press against his back, nudging him firmly onwards. This was where Matt was; on this desolate rock. He'd made the best decision he could here. The stubborn shards of his humanity that still remained slashed and stabbed their way through to the forefront of his mind; screaming of hope that he knew didn't exist. He would allow himself this much, just so he could sleep at night, which for a long time had been difficult unless he was sedated. Even then it wasn't true sleep.

 

-

 

Matt yelled out. It was cold; too cold. All he could do was shield his face from the hose as the guard sprayed him with icy-cold water. Apparently he had a visitor. Matt never had visitors. Well, that was a lie. He'd had one visitor that came every so often at any time of the day or night, but it was too soon for him to be here. Something was off, and he didn't trust it. As the pressure died away, the guard tossed him a towel that Matt used to always miss, but he'd got better at it. No one wanted a wet towel to dry themselves in, even if it was uselessly small. He dried until the skin was at minimum damp and stepped into the fresh body suit and purple shirt as he always wore. He decided black and purple weren't his colours. Or grey. Everything was just these three colours over and over until he wondered if he could really see reds and yellows and greens any more.

 

“You're meeting a real celebrity today, boy!” The guard hollered. Matt ruffled the wet towel through his hair and nodded in response. Well it wasn't him then. Maybe it was some hot alien chick who had a prisoner rehabilitation centre, and once they were better she'd send them on their merry way. He'd get back to Earth and they'd build a giant ship that could destroy the Galra, and he'd marry some alien princess. Okay; it was all stupid, but at this point it was one of the few things that kept him going. Going back home and thrashing Katie at video games was another; he was clearly the superior of the two.

 

-

 

“Can you turn off the universal translators before you go?” Shiro ignored the hands over his body as the guard frisked him for items he clearly could not be carrying due to the lack of pockets and in some places – like his exposed skin – clothes. He just wanted to get this over and done with. Haxus hummed in response as he watched with that oily smirk on his face that made Shiro want to punch him. He wasn't in the mood for Galra bullshit today – the first time in forever. “I don't understand why you wish to converse with him in human languages, but you creatures are a strange bunch, so who am I to judge? Just knock on the door when you are done, the sentries will let you out.”  
“Understood, Lieutenant Haxus.”  
“Good boy,” Shiro ignored the sarcasm as he moved towards the room.  
“Oh, Champion?”  
“Yeah?” Shiro turned, his gut knotting at the tone.  
“Tell your little friend I send my regards.” Haxus turned on his heel, placing his hands behind his back as he moved to the guard. Shiro didn't respond, and moved into the room decked out with two chairs and a small square table in the centre. That was it.

 

-

 

Matt stumbled into the room and wanted to exit straight away. He still backed up, his back pressing against the closed door behind him. _What was he doing here?_ Matt had seen the fights, of _god_ he'd seen them and wished he never had. Shiro had – he'd...he was _alive_. He'd thought – hoped – that he'd died. It'd be better then living the 'life' he thought he had as a glorified fuck toy for the Galra. It'd be better then being the broken mess he'd seen back in that brothel. His legs gave out under him and he just slid down the door. Maybe if he stayed here, Shiro would get bored. Hopefully he'd lost that saint-like patience he had before.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

Matt flinched at the voice. It wasn't – it couldn't be? It sounded like normal Shiro. There was hope. Matt licked his lips, stumbling towards the table and planting his hands on it to support his weight. “S-Shiro? Is that you in there?”  
“Yeah, last time I checked.” His voice was controlled, and he wasn't naked this time. Matt stole glances at what he could see; just more scars and his skin looking even paler. His eyes were dark and he looked drawn and exhausted overall, and the light still hadn't returned to his eyes from what he could remember. Matt cautiously sat down, eyes drawn to the massive scar across his nose. “You're alive.”  
“Yeah. I almost died a few times, but hey, I'm a fighter,” he raised his prosthetic pathetically.  
“They fixed it?”  
“Yeah. It's a new design but feels and works the same.” Shiro dropped it to his side and placed his human hand on the table.

 

“I've got some good news for you.” His voice grew quieter and Matt was straining to hear him.  
“What is it, Shiro?”  
“When I...became Champion,” he leaned back in his seat, choosing to stare at the ceiling as he spoke, “I was offered a wish that the Emperor would fulfil.” Matt wondered whether he was going to announce he was becoming Shiro's 'prize'; he hoped he wouldn't. “Go on.” Matt prompted, and Shiro nodded, licking his lips.  
“I asked for your freedom and safe passage back to Earth. We're taking you out in the morning, and then after that you'll be sent back. It should only take a few quintants.” He almost missed the forlorn look on Shiro's face.

 

Matt stared wide-eyed at him. “Why didn't you request it for yourself?”  
“It'd be pointless.”  
“Shiro, you need to get away from all this. You...you've been through way more then dad and I ever have since we've been here.”  
“You saw the fights?” Matt knew where this was going.  
“I did, but it's _home_ , you can heal and they'll be able to help you. They're equipped to do it. I bet the Galra don't give a shit-”  
“You're wrong,” the laugh was the most emotive Shiro had been this conversation and Matt jerked away, “I helped my medical officer translate a load of journals and reports on mental health. Trust me, it's fine.”

 

“So have you managed to get away from Sendak?”  
“Of course not. This,” he pointed at the collar with a wide grin plastered over his face, “is my collar. I'm his pet – his property. When we saw each other last, I didn't have it because I'd misbehaved, like I said. Now I've earned it back, why would I want to be free when I'm safe?”  
“Don't you want to go back and see your mum? See Adam or Keith?”  
“My mother couldn't love me like this. Adam...I can't see him, and Keith? Don't bring him in to this, just...don't go there.” Shiro shot him a warning glare, but there was something else he could sense. “You _know_ he's probably gone off the rails since you left!” Matt didn't realise he was shouting until it was too late. Shiro was being a selfless idiot again and even _now_ couldn't think of himself as anything but expendable. He was there still, just buried under all this mess. “That boy had the most ridiculous crush on you since he was sixteen! It was so...obvious. So, think, Shiro. They've probably announced us all dead, right?” He watched Shiro give an impassive nod, “so, what does Keith normally do when something gets him emotional?”  
“Lash out.” As usual, Shiro could answer instantaneously any question about Keith. “Exactly. So, imagine he's distraught after finding our you're dead. What do you think he'd do?”  
“Probably something he shouldn't, but I'd hope we worked through a lot of that before I left-”  
“You think he could cope with the thought of the guy he'd been crushing on – newly single I might add – dying and _not_ lash out?” Maybe Keith was the way to go to get him back to thinking like he normally did. That should prompt him to stop this stupidity and go home.

 

There was a pregnant pause between them, Shiro blinked as he rocked back and forth in the chair. “I can't let him see me this broken, Matt.” His voice cracked as he held his head in his hands. “I'd corrupt him with what I've done, what I've seen, what I've been through.”  
“Shiro...Shiro I'd bet whatever is in my bank account back home that he'd be there for you. You remember what he said at the pre-launch party, right?” He watched Shiro peek through the crack in his fingers.  
“No?”  
Matt inhaled sharply and moved carefully to settle beside his chair. “Shiro, he said he'd be there waiting until you came back, no matter what. You got really...emotional I guess? Brought him in and took a photo together to remember the moment, maybe. He was blushing like an idiot.”  
“That doesn't mean he could handle this! Look, I can't go back, okay?” Shiro pushed himself from the chair, pacing like a caged animal. Matt gave him his space, not wanting a repeat of last time – not now he knew what he could do.

 

“You're going home whether you like it or not.” Shiro finally said, stopping in place. “I'll tie you to the pilot's seat if I have to. As you superior officer, I'm _ordering you_ to go home, or do I need to make you see my point of view?” He snarled, drawing his lips back to expose his teeth as pulled himself to full height, glaring down his nose at Matt. In that moment, something clicked for Matt, and it was something he desperately hoped he would be wrong about. “Shiro. Why're you talking like them?” He moved so the furniture was in Shiro's direct path. His friend snorted and laughed, clutching at his chest. He tilted his head back, pointing to the teeth marks just underneath the bottom of his collar, “because, Matt,” his eyes glinted in the purple light as he brought his fists down on the table, **“I am a fucking monster like them!”**

 

Matt had no idea what he was saying. Was the translator broken? “S-Shiro? W-What was that?”  
“I was speaking Galran.” He pulled away from the table, dragging the chair lazily away and settling down in it again, leg crossed over the other. “Why...and when did you learn that?”  
“I started learning a while ago when I restarted gladiator training. Why? Well,” he let his head fall backwards into the wall and let out a sharp bark of laughter that reminded Matt of one of the guards, “being human has cost me too much. The Commander said he can make me stronger, and so I accepted. I'm accepting them and their culture, just like I did when I moved to America. You know, their ways are sometimes really similar to human ones? They have folk tales and literature, and even music. Their home planet, Diabazaal, was destroyed by some aliens called Alteans. They have a device that can suck out all the quintessence from a planet they need to test.” Shiro continued but Matt had zoned out as he just stared at him.

 

“I'll go home, Shiro.”  
“You will?”  
“Y-Yeah, I'll go.”  
“That's just what I wanted to hear-”  
“On one condition,” Matt swallowed as he steeled himself, “if Haxus comes for me tonight, stop him.” Shiro narrowed his eyes, rising from the chair. “What do you mean?”  
“Well, you couldn't get here by yourself, and I doubt Sendak will leave you with just anyone since you're his...”  
“His pet and slave?”  
“Y-Yeah,” Matt winced at the dismissive way Shiro looked at him, like this was just a normal thing to be called, “well, he-”  
“I'm aware of what he did to you at the brothel-”  
“-he's done it more than once.” Matt didn't know if it was just a trick of the light or if it was real, but Shiro looked fraught. He moved towards Matt, who raised his hands defensively. “D-Don't, okay? Just back off.” Shiro did as instructed, a pained look in his eyes that looked relatively human.

 

“How many times?” Shiro finally managed.  
“I've lost count.” Matt answered coldly. He pushed himself in the corner of the box room, drawing himself in like his exhausted body could protect him from the horrors of the universe that lay just outside a single door. “Matt, I...I'm sorry.” There was a sob, then another, and Shiro forgot about personal boundaries as he dropped down in front of Matt, breaking his defences with trained ease as he brought him in close. “I'm sorry he hurt you.” Matt shrugged his shoulders, “shit happens, I guess. Do you accept or not?”

 

“It doesn't matter what you try and bribe me on, you're going regardless.” Shiro glanced up, “but I have a way I can try and help you. I need you to play along with me, no matter what.”  
“What're you going to-” Shiro grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. Matt yelled out as he threw his hands up defensively as Shiro spun him into the wall, shouting out in weird growls and snarls that sounded like he'd been eating gravel. The door burst open and two sentries came in, blaster's trained on him. Shiro snarled at them again, and one left. A few seconds later, an alarm blared around them, and after a few more minutes, it died as the Warden and Haxus stalked into the room. Matt dropped down to his knees glaring at the floor. He heard a smack and Shiro snarl out again, and dark growls in reply. He looked up to see the Warden bearing down on Shiro, now forced to his knees. Haxus leered at Matt, before bringing out a data pad.

 

“There, this should be better. His Galran is still basic.”  
“He was looking at me oddly at times, and did tell me to 'go drink a doormat',” she restrained her laughter but turned to Shiro. “Why did you attack my prisoner?”  
“He disrespected me, and I was going to _educate_ him.”  
“It seems you would know a lot regarding those matters, Champion.” She tilted his chin up, ghosting her claws over the collar. Shiro's lips curled upwards, “of course, Warden. My Commander has not shirked from educating me thoroughly,” he mustered a small purr and licked his lips. “That one,” he nodded at Matt, “I want to educate him _myself,_ ” he glanced up to Haxus, “Lieutenant Haxus, may I stay with the prisoner tonight and educate him? I will be at your beck and call until we return to Central Command if you allow it.”  
“Will you?” Haxus moved forward, smirking down at Shiro, “yes, Lieutenant,” Shiro raised his head slowly, “I miss you. Well, _both_ of you.”  
“You would partake again?”  
“Of course. You mean so much to the Commander, and if I'm to please and trust him, surely I should extend that to you?” Haxus considered him for a long moment, and nodded to the Warden. With a wave of her hand, the two were marched from the room.

 

-

 

“I can't punch you, Shiro.”  
“Do it, we need it to look convincing,” he ordered. Matt screwed his eyes shut and screamed as his fist connected with Shiro's jaw. He took a few steps back, using all his restraint not to leap on Matt and strangle the life out of him. He hated having no guard and _letting_ himself take the damage, well, unless it was from Sendak. He knew how to make it feel good. “Again,” Shiro panted, spitting blood to the floor. It was a better strike. Matt did it again, this time just clipping the side. “That should be fine. I need you to hold out your wrists. This will hurt, but just scream out.” Shiro moved forward, and grabbed the hesitant hand. He squeezed the wrist with his prosthetic, studying Matt's face for signs it was becoming too much. _Just enough to bruise_. Snap it in half. He kept going on about Keith. _Just leave it. He's desperate._ He pushed back the darker images. He needed to just end this quickly. “Give me the other. I can just say you were compliant.” Shiro released Matt's wrist and held the metal hand out for the other. Matt stared at him, bewildered.

 

“How can you be so unaffected?”  
“The arena, the humiliation, the fact that I-” he stopped himself; Matt didn't need to know that. “Have you always been this sadistic or is it the Galra?” Matt pressed, and Shiro just grabbed his wrist, clenching so tight he dropped to his knees, tears prickling his eyes. “Please! Stop, Shiro!” Shiro released him with a start, not realising he'd lost himself again. “S-Sorry.”  
“Just...let me try and sleep, please?”  
“Yeah,” Shiro brought back up his indifferent persona, and watched Matt nurse his sore limbs as he padded over to the metal slab, pulling himself up and under the thin blanket. Shiro looked at him, then down at his own hands. This was what he was scared of doing to Keith – to anyone else.

 

“Matt.”  
“What is it?”  
“When you get back to Earth,” he swallowed, “tell Keith I died.” There was a pregnant pause between the two. “Try and sleep, Shiro.” He heard the blanket rustle and Matt turn. A few ticks later, he heard a muffled sob.

 

-

 

Shiro didn't sleep much, if at all, on the floor. He spent most of his night staring at the door just _waiting_ for Haxus to appear. His brain had kept racing with thoughts of Keith – of _hurting_ him like he had Matt. Then there was all the intrusive thoughts. He could _easily_ kill Matt in his sleep by strangling him or just smashing his head over and over into the wall. He hadn't, but it was...he was...he was so fucked up.

 

He lifted his head as the door slid open. “Good morning, Lieutenant Haxus.”  
“I presume you had a good evening?”  
Shiro stared eagle-eyed at Haxus as he stepped in, arms behind his back. _A terrible stance, easy to offset._ He approached Shiro and crouched down to his eye level, taking his fringe in his claws and tilting his head from side to side. “You were damaged?”  
“A little. He fought back a bit.”  
“Did he really?” Haxus mocked, slamming Shiro's head back against the wall. “So he acts differently for you?” Haxus brought his face in close, glaring into Shiro's steady gaze. “We go back a while,” he answered slowly, bringing his prosthetic up and pressing it against Haxus's chest.  
“You know I checked the feed from the interrogation room.”  
“I imagine you did.”  
“Did you honestly take him?” Shiro remained tight-lipped but kept his gaze frigid. “The bruises will speak for themselves.”  
“If you did, the Commander will be very proud you've learned this lesson,” Haxus pushed himself up, eyes flicking between Shiro and Matt.

 

Shiro watched him yank Matt up by his hair, ripping the strands out of the sleeping man, well, he wasn't asleep any more. “L-Lieutenant Haxus?!” Shiro caught Matt's eyes and rose from the ground. Matt was dropped to the floor, Shiro stopping in front of him, while Haxus leaned down and checked his skin for marks. “You did not tear away the suit?”  
“No. I don't find it appealing.” He winced along with Matt as Haxus tore the suit with ease around his ass. Shiro held back the tiniest of growls, wondering whether this was what he looked like at the start of it all when Sendak would just tear everything apart. “Champion, why is there no blood?” _Shiro had some bovas-shitting to do._ “Human and Galran dicks are different. Human ones are better suited for the job.”  
“Yet yours takes more than human cock, doesn't it?”  
“Because I've been trained for it and know the feelings. Matt here clearly has not.” Shiro bent down, cupping Matt's face.  
“So he should bleed?”  
“Not unless you don't know what you're doing.” Shiro glared up and pulled Matt forward.

 

“We should get going-” Shiro fell to the floor as Matt's weight came down on his chest. Haxus held them both in place, eyes narrowed darkly as he surveyed Shiro's expression. “You honestly think me a fool?”  
“What do you-”  
“I may not be able to smell deception, but I can smell fear,” he straddled himself over Matt's ass, grinding his hips down, “and he stinks of it. You, well, you don't have your usual scent about you. You may be able to talk and look detached, but you _cannot_ off-set your unique scents. Besides,” Haxus smirked devilishly at Shiro, “you don't have it in you to rape your friend.”

 

Something louder than thunder sounded above them as the building shook. Haxus brought himself up to his feet with a start, straining his ears as he listened. “I'll be back to deal with you both later. Champion,” he glared at Shiro specifically, “I will be letting the Commander know about this incident, but after I've punished you _myself_.” Haxus moved towards the door cautiously, body tense as he opened it and looked down the corridors, before moving out.

 

There was another thunderous rumble, then low noises that clung in the air. “Is that explosions?” Matt whispered as he pulled the shirt over head, fingers fumbling with the fabric as he tried to tear it. Shiro look it from him and tore along the seam, handing it back. Matt folded and tied it around his hips. “You're gonna be in trouble, Shiro. Please, go home.”  
“I can't, Matt,” Shiro pulled them both up and looked to the door. There was another loud noise, this time a roar above them. The building creaked like a great weight sat above it, and Shiro was worried. The room turned from green-tinged to red. An alarm like on Sendak's cruiser sounded. Something was off; he'd not heard any return fire and now, at a guess, they were on lock-down. He looked to Matt, who gave him an impassive look. “Just another rebel attack. It'll fail, like always. You should still go home, for Keith. He needs you like the lost puppy he's always been.” Matt offered a smile, but there was a level of falseness there.

 

Shiro turned his attention back to the door and paced over. “I don't think I can look at him any more.”  
“Why? Near the end, you were putting him before Ad-”  
“Don't!” Shiro snarled back, before running a hand through his hair. “Look I know I fucked up, alright? I don't need a constant reminder I keep fucking up when I try and do the right thing _all the time._ If I didn't win in the arena, you, your dad and Keith would've been subject to death, ok? I can't afford that – can't afford him going through what I have. I mean look at me, I'm a fucking mess.” Matt didn't answer, as he expected, and it reaffirmed his mind even more. “My body has had...so many hallucinogenics pumped into, Matt. Do you know how many dreams, and times, I've,” he paused, “I've imagined him?” He watched Matt's eyes widen and looked away. “I can't with Adam any more, I had a bad trip, but just...him. I'm scared I'd hurt and take advantage of him. Like I am now...would you really trust me being around him?” He turned back to Matt, who was gaping at him.

 

“No, I wouldn't trust you at all; not with how you are now.”  
That was what Shiro wanted to hear. It didn't matter how much Matt could say he could have therapy – he doubted he could keep a single human therapist.

 

-

 

“We've been locked out of the system!”  
“By who?”  
“I don't know!” Haxus snarled as he tried to get into the planetary defences but couldn't. The rebels had come in with heavy artillery, and worse, the sensors and radar hadn't even picked them up. There were dozens of ships of all different sizes outside, and Haxus desperately wanted to see them blasted to pieces. He caught one of the battle cruisers that was docked outside rise into the sky, discharging the cannon and scrambling the fighters. They were additionally locked out of those, too.

 

A huge explosion shattered the glass around them. Haxus watched in horror as the battle cruiser was shot straight through by a mighty beam of energy. Wide-eyed and horrified, he saw the ship splinter, the bow dropping like a mace and smashing through a cell block. “Get another cruis-” the Warden was stopped mid-sentence as another energy beam shot by. This one struck the cruiser docked in the dead-centre of the bays. Like the other, it exploded, and the two others – the one they came on – were caught in the blast themselves. He needed to get the fuck out of here and grab Champion, because if he didn't, may the gods help him against both Sendak and the Emperor.

 

-

 

They didn't realise the doors had opened until a figure pushed their way in, blaster raised. They looked over before making a content chuckle. “Didn't think I would find two of you. No matter, let's go, go, go! We're here to get you out on our last orders.”  
“Last orders? Orders from who?”  
They turned and glanced over their shoulder, mask obscuring any features, bar the wide, feather-like ears. “Our old captain, Nadiva-”  
“Matt, we're going nowhere!” Shiro moved sharply in front of Matt, raising his fists and hunched low like an animal protecting its young. The stranger paced over unabated and leaned down. “We're _fighting_ the Galra. You know, terrible ancient Empire that has enslaved you both? You're coming with me.”  
“Shiro, we should. We can both be free!” Matt tugged at his arm, eyes wide and full of hope. Shiro paused, and that was all the stranger needed. They grabbed Matt by the hand and ran, near dragging him from the cell.

 

“Shit!” Shiro scolded himself, running after the pair. He had to get to Matt; keep him safe. If their captain was Nadiva, he could only imagine how vile his comrades could be. They could be like Haxus, sure, but what if these _drecks_ hurt him? What if they raped him or had him tied up and just mounted again and again and again? What if they manipulated him to work for them? What if, what if, _what if_? They wouldn't let him home, and he needed to go, he needed to be safe. Everything was in place, and he wouldn't let these bastards rip it from his grasp now he was so close.

 

There, in front of him.  
“Matt! I'm going to save you!” Shiro willed himself onwards, ignoring the increasing crescendo of explosions and the screaming of metal as it buckled. The ground under him shook as he tried to keep his footing, but he had to succeed. Victory or death. He'd come back victorious. The stranger who had Matt pushed him forward and turned, firing their blaster down at the floor. Shiro was forced to stop and back up a few paces, and they stared at each other for a long moment. “I don't know who you are, but we're freeing him from this hell. We can't let you jeopardise our mission.” They turned and caught up. Shiro snarled as he pushed forward again, feeling the grip he had slipping away as they held the distance.

 

As he breached the main door, his eyes were met with the destruction; flames danced high, whipped into a ferocious frenzy by the wind. To his right, the battle cruisers and buildings were razed to the ground; twisted metal piercing out through the wreckages like limbs of the entombed. He choked on the acrid smoke and hot embers carried on the deathly black winds, but remained vigilant as he looked for Matt. _There_. He was boarding a ship. Shiro ran, screaming. Matt couldn't leave with these strangers – how could he blindly trust them when he didn't know them? Didn't know what they were capable of? How could he make such a critical mistake.

 

 _You mean like you?  
_ No. No, he hadn't done that. Why would he think that?  
 _Don't be an idiot. You don't want Matt to make the same mistakes you have, because look at you, look at how much of a mess you became._  
“Shut up!” He screeched.

 

Just a few feet.  
“Matt! Come back! Don't _leave_!” Shiro ran, his arm outstretched, fingers reaching for him. Matt turned on the ramp, and went to move, “Shiro? Shiro, come with us! Come with me!” He reached out with his own hand, “we can get home _together_.”  
“Matt!” With the last of his energy and on aching feet, he launched himself forward.

 

His fingers curled around nothing. Shiro landed on the floor, eyes wide, hyperventilating, as the ship lifted from the ground. “Matt!” The scream was ripped from his throat as he raised his arm, hand shaking violently as he reached out. His tears burned in his eyes as they fell down his cheeks as all he could do was watch. “Shiro! Shiro I'll come back for you! Shiro, I -” the ship's engines obscured the last of Matt's words as they roared to life, and he was dragged back into the belly of the beast, the ramp closing behind him.

 

If there was anyone around, he'd be scolded for screaming so loudly. It didn't matter. Shiro despondently watched it shoot away, clutching his painful chest. His nose, throat and lungs burned, his chest throbbed with a deep pain that he thought would _kill him_. He just led there on the ground, unmoving, as explosions carried on around him.

 

That was until some monstrous shadow moved over him. He watched it envelop the area – it was wide, it kept going. On shaking hands, he pushed himself to his knees and craned his head back. He let out a terrified whine as he saw the metal patchwork underbelly drone above him. He squinted, unsure if rebel ships were meant to have thrusters at the front of the ship _,_ or whether the pilot was a complete dreck and was reversing the thing. He pushed himself up to his legs. He couldn't hear anything against the rumble of this ship as the noise of it masked everything. Eventually he got a look at the tail end, noting the thicker fuselage that then tapered out. Shiro moved to the side, trying to gain a glimpse at the side of the ship. It didn't seem to be in a hurry to get out of the area, and it was still weird the Galra hadn't defended themselves.

 

“Champion!” Shiro turned to see Haxus sprint towards him, glancing up fearfully at the ship. “We need to move. That _thing_ they have has single-handedly destroyed most of this prison. The eighteenth fleet is due here soon, but we must move, now!” He grabbed Shiro's wrist and pulled. Shiro caught sight of the ship – realising the 'end' was in fact the front. Strange antenna opened out around the boxy mouth, which slowly started to glow. He quickly flicked between it and the trajectory. Haxus was pulling him towards the building, where it was aiming.

 

Without hesitation, he pulled Haxus hard and sprinted. “It's aimed at the block!” He shouted as he urged his legs on harder and harder. Haxus picked up his speed, and the two ran neck-and-neck as they launched themselves towards a low roof. Neither managed a decent landing, and rolled across the flat roof to watch the cannon fire.

 

It made a strange, almost electronic noise, as it discharged into the building. Shiro instinctively leapt on Haxus, shielding him from the accompanying blast that sent the two off the roof and across the floor. It hurt – it wasn't a tall building, but Shiro was certain his ribs were broken again. Haxus didn't seem in great shape either, considering he took the impact from the fall. His head was bleeding, and Shiro could feel a cut above his eye. In a daze, he scrabbled his metal fingers against the fabric, ripping away as much of Haxus's body suit as he could to press against the wound. “You'll be okay, you're a stubborn fuck.” Shiro rattled off through the pain.

 

Haxus watched him through tired eyes. He was surprised, honestly, but Champion had saved him from making a mistake that would have them both killed. He lifted a painful hand to the prosthetic and pushed it down as hard as he could. He would not tell the Commander of his lies, because he had saved them both. He groaned, letting his head fall backwards. The droning growing further and further away.

 

-

 

Matt stared back at the planet as they broke orbit. He pressed his head against the window and let out a pained sob as he sank to his knees.  
“You okay there, kid?”  
“My friend...he's still down there.”  
“The arena champion?”  
“Y-Yeah. He...he won so he could send me home, protect me and dad.” He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder cautiously. “You wouldn't have been safe.”  
“I know, but he really believed I would be, and it hurts. It hurts he's become what he is.” The fat tears didn't stop and he curled his arms around himself. “I don't want him to hurt any more. I...I...he's like my brother, and I gotta look out for that selfless idiot.”  
“Sounds like he means a lot.” Matt nodded in response.

 

“Is there any way you can help me get him back?”  
“An operation that difficult would need more forces then we have, and right now, you and the others are carrying quite a bounty.” Matt turned to the blue skinned alien behind him, his white beard reminding him of the one time Iverson thought he'd look pretty cool with one. He didn't. “Space Iverson, I want to help you.” Matt stood to attention and gazed fiercely into his eyes. “Let me join the rebel fight. The Galra are a menace, and they have my friend; my brother.” The alien gauged him quietly for a long while, before grinning and bringing a hand down on his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side. “Dunno who Space Iverson is, but my name is Ozar. You, kiddo, have guts, and we can use the help.” Matt grinned, and nodded. “So what do I do?”  
“First things first, you need to die-”  
“Wait, what?”  
“We're going to fake your death. Every single one of us is dead,” Ozar laughed, and Matt was sure he was going to have an interesting relationship with this guy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Matt has gone! We now won't see him until Part 2, but who knows what he'll be doing at that point! At least they left on good terms, and no one got sexually assaulted this chapter.
> 
> Back to Central Command next chapter! I'd hate to be the warden :)  
> I'd also hate to be Shiro, because Sendak will be leaving soon.
> 
> I'm going to be a bit busy over the next week, and though I will write some of this, again expect updates to slow down a bit. I think I'm going to write chapter 3 of In Your Gravity while I plan out something properly for the next one for this, and I need to go back over Accidental Emperor, for those of you who read it.
> 
> Catch you again! Hope you enjoyed it and can't wait to hear from you!


	36. Tensions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos - they mean a lot and it's great to hear from you.  
> This needed a few rewrites, but finally it is done. I'm still working on my coursework, but been doing this in the breaks.
> 
> It has surprisingly become another porn chapter? Well, smut, non-con, smut. There is actual plot in here, as usual. Shiro has the most dire set of coping mechanisms, but one day they won't be as dire, I hope. He's just so emotionally uneven, and like depression, he has his good and bad days. Sendak is being more affectionate as well?? There we are.
> 
> So please, enjoy ;)

After he'd been healed, which didn't seem to take as long as normal, he'd been tasked with moving the cadavers of lost officers to one of the ships. What remaining prisoners that were left were being herded like bovas for Central Command's cells, which meant they were likely due for the arena. Shiro wondered as he laid the body down carefully into a pod how many prisons existed within the Empire, because there seemed an awfully large amount of prisoners and the whole system involved a lot of movement. Even the cruiser, now a twisted skeleton of warped metal, surely couldn't be the only transport ship.

 

He searched for Haxus, who was still stood talking to the Commander of the fleet. His name was Throk, who seemed relatively polite all things considered. He would be taking them back to Central to report directly to the Emperor. From what Haxus had said, they were both going to have to give their accounts. Haxus was worried about how livid Sendak would be about the ship, and Shiro had regretted his choice in lying to him. At the time it felt gratifying, but he miscalculated, and to what end he wasn't certain. Shiro quickly moved back to the line of bodies, eyes catching two guards throwing the corpse of a prisoner into the mass grave. Shiro swallowed back the rising bile and busied himself again. Even after a shower, he didn't think he could wash away the clinging scent of the deceased.

 

-

 

Shiro lifted his head from the sofa groggily as Haxus stumbled in to the room. Throk had given Haxus a room on board his ship, and he had requested that Shiro stay under his watch. He rubbed at his eyes, not realising he'd fallen asleep. “Good evening?” He studied Haxus as he fumbled for the clasps on his armour, one ear sticking up and the other drooping to the side. He was drunk. Shiro moved from the sofa and found the clasps. He helped ease it from his chest and pulled down the body suit to his hips. Haxus let out a deep purr, drunkenly petting his face. “Veeery goood boooy,” he stumbled towards the sofa and flopped down. He stared at his boots, waving his leg pathetically in a vain attempt they'd come off. Shiro rolled his eyes, and sat in front of him, finding the clasps that kept them in place.

 

“Dooon't get yaaa.” Shiro looked up, tilting his head to the side. “What?”  
“Said. Don't get yaaa. Yaact like a shitty kit then do tha'.” Haxus hooked his feet under Shiro's arms and pulled him forward into his lap. Sharp claws toyed with his hair fondly and Shiro could feel the erection against the side of his jaw and swallowed. “It's just how I am.”  
“It's amusin'. Oh, ya did gooood.”  
“With what?”  
“Protectin' mee,” Haxus chuckled, raking his claws through the strands, “so lemme show you some thaaanks.” Haxus tugged Shiro up into his lap and kneaded his claws into his back. His fingers found those magic spots that made him a _mess_ and Shiro couldn't help but let his breath catch. Haxus purred as he ran his tongue over his stomach, drawing patterns and grazing his teeth. Shiro really didn't want an erection right now, but he felt the signs he was going to soon. He felt Haxus fiddle with his armour, and in defeat, Shiro just removed it for him. “Better,” Haxus licked his lips and kneaded between his shoulder blades. Shiro brought his hands around the back of his head, pushing his face against his chest as he whined and tugged absently at his ear. Haxus released a breathy hiss, and gave him an appreciative lick, “do thaaat,” so Shiro continued.

 

Haxus placed him down on his stomach and tugged the leather away. Lifting his hips, he dove in, smoothing his hands over the thigh-high boots and purring as he lapped and pressed his tongue inside Shiro's entrance. Shiro moaned into the seat, dragging his nails against the fabric and blinking stars from his eyes. All the stress felt like it was melting away as Haxus worked his tongue deeper inside him. “Fuck!” He hissed out, pushing back against him. The response was claws grabbing his hip bone and forcing him closer while the other took his semi-hard cock in his hand, giving slow but firm strokes. Shiro whined and moved in tandem with Haxus's pace, feeling himself edge closer and closer to orgasm. It'd barely taken any time at all compared to normal, but it didn't matter.

 

He managed to hold out for ten more dobosh's until he came hard, Haxus milking him dry and his body hyper-sensitive. Haxus placed him down, his purring kicking back up again as he prodded his thigh. Shiro tilted his head and Haxus motioned to the bed. Without words, the two moved, and Shiro straddled his hips, rubbing the head against his wet entrance. He pushed himself down, shuddering from the sensitivity, as he rode the Lieutenant slowly. Haxus writhed and bucked his hips upwards, just managing to hold Shiro by the waist as claws dragged over his skin. He pulled out and pushed Shiro back into the sheets, crawling on top of him and fisting his come out all over Shiro's stomach, before dropping down over his chest. “Good boy,” Haxus gave his cheek a small lick, and Shiro scratched under his ears absently. So much as his body felt good, he still felt exhausted.

 

-

 

Sendak was about to leave after the emergency meeting to meet Haxus and Champion. He was already aware of the state of his ship and half of his crew, but was content the warden was slated for execution. Sendak wasn't happy, but it was the warden who was held to account for the loss of life. Haxus was thankfully out of the firing line.

 

“Commander Sendak, a word,” he looked up to see Haggar stood with the Emperor. “Of course, High Priestess.” He moved towards them as the others moved from the room with haste. She motioned for him to sit, and he took a seat.  
“I need to ask your permission regarding Champion.”  
“What is it you wish of him?” Sendak sat more alert, and she found herself pausing. This was always a problem with live subjects.  
“Champion has deemed himself worthy of my time. I look to augment him; weaponise him for the Empire.” She noted the slight widening of Sendak's eye.  
“You want me to keep a living weapon?” She watched his ear twitch.  
“I did not think it would be a problem for you, Commander.”  
“It is not a problem at all. In fact, I am quite pleased because this assists me in my pet project. He's now in the final reconditioning stages since he wishes to stay here,” Sendak's grin became so wide Haggar wondered how many of his teeth she could see.

 

“What are your plans for him, High Priestess?” Sendak leaned on the table, gaze focused solely upon her. Haggar couldn't help but feel the smile form on her lips. “His arm,” she tapped her claws over the display and brought up a holographic projection of the arm schematics, “has dual usage. You see aside from an upgrade to the basic structure and materials used, I have also fitted it with,” she paused momentarily, “effectively a condensed particle cannon. At present, it is non-operational. I need to augment the body to allow it to be safely used. I would look to test the augmentations in the arena, but once I am happy with the results, I would then require you take him out for field testing.” She noted the large grin on Sendak's face. “I am sure that he will relish the destruction.”  
“I am sure he will after the title match.” Haggar tapped the display again to bring up her other notes.

 

Sendak listened carefully as she ran through the current arm. The hand still used super-heated quintessence, although the quintessence was what she had refined herself. Her plan was to eventually move towards quintessence as an energy source for the entire arm, but that was on hold for the time being due to the Komar. He quite enjoyed her being direct for once. There was one small issue that niggled at him, and that regarded her methods. On the rare occasions Ulaz would be sociable, and the even rarer ones he was willing to talk about the work he did in the labs, Sendak always sensed some type of reservation about her ethics. Usually, he wouldn't care, but Champion was amusing and curious, and he didn't want him to be a husk.

 

“On your honour, High Priestess, can you swear to me you will not break him?”  
“In what sense, Commander?”  
“I do not want to look into his eyes and see something dead or too subservient. Aggressive, fine, I can handle him. A weeping and broken creature? No. You can recondition him all you please, but as you can appreciate, he is also my project as well.” Sendak offered a smile, although Haggar knew it was a warning one. Although he could do absolutely nothing to her, because he was too loyal to the Emperor and herself, if she wanted to experiment on Champion again she needed him to be agreeable.

 

“Is there anything else you have in mind for him?”  
“Small things, such as sample collection and testing his limits.”  
“You do not feel they have been tested enough?”  
“What you have done or allowed done to him is not something I care for, Commander.”  
“Although you could argue his endurance and stamina was tested _thoroughly_ when he out in the Ragnar Ring.” Haggar opened and closed her mouth. _Technically,_ he had a point. The physical exertion was something she could dig through and garner information from. She could always check his full memories if need be, get a full understanding of this one. It would help in testing.

 

“My only other concern regards quintessence,” Sendak smoothed back his fur as he spoke, “the aggression and personality shift has been noted by Officer Ulaz and Lieutenant Haxus, as well as myself. The most recent stint within the labs had him return with glowing eyes, and I would like to know that this will not have any ill-effects.”  
“I will concede that I did not think the rise in strength and aggression would have been from quintessence, however after hearing about him cracking your armour and seeing what happened within the arena, I will monitor the intake. Although,” her eyes narrowed as her lips tugged upwards, “we do have Medical Officer Ulaz. His previous work and oversight on quintessence-based experiments yielded excellent results. He has the expertise I require, and would like to request him back to my command for the period of the experiment.” She folded her arms as Sendak looked at her. “I was going to take him back to the ship.”  
“He is wasted there; we both know this.”  
“That is true,” Sendak paused, weighing everything up.

 

“I will grant you permission to turn him in to a weapon, although I wish you had notified me prior to fitting the arm with what was inside. You are also granted to take samples and test him, but I do not wish to see him marked from the experiments.”  
“You tie my hands, slightly,” she offered a cruel smile that Sendak didn't return.  
“You can have Ulaz assigned to him,” he just needed to find another medical officer, since the last one mysteriously disappeared, or so he'd been told. He'd still not spoken to Ulaz up until earlier, and even then it was strained. Like usual, he'd panicked over Champion and wanted to give him a check over to make sure he was alright.

 

“Is there anything you would like done?” Haggar studied Sendak's face as he considered the question. There was a long pause, until he finally answered. “I would be interested to know if you can extend his lifespan.”  
“Quintessence exposure does that already, you know this.”  
“I mean like the previous experiments conducted on the Rudiarius and the handful of others.” She nodded slowly, glancing to the Emperor, who gave her a curt nod of approval. “I will see what I can do, but you cannot have him limited and then over-exposed.”  
“I trust you will find a way.”

 

-

 

Sendak was surprised at the sheer force of Champion's embrace. He had to take a small step back to stop himself from stumbling. He looked up to watch Throk and Haxus slowly approach, the two giving him a small smile as their eyes flicked from him to Champion.  
“I owe you my thanks, Commander Throk.”  
“It is no trouble at all, Commander Sendak.” Throk came to a stop, placing his hands behind his back. “It was pleasant to catch up with Lieutenant Haxus. I had heard he became a lieutenant, but it is always nice to confirm such rumours. It was also a pleasure to meet the Champion. He was incredibly helpful in collecting the dead.” Throk glanced down at Champion, who was still attached to Sendak's waist.

 

“Champion, release.” Shiro pulled his arms away, glancing up into Sendak's eyes. “Apologies, Commander,” he bowed, “I have missed you.”  
“From what I am aware of, things did not go to plan.”  
“No, Commander,” Shiro stared at the floor, forcing his voice to remain even, “I was unable to retrieve him before the rebels _stole_ him from me. I-I'm sorry for being a failure.”  
“The only failure was that of the warden. Yourself, and Haxus, were lucky to survive,” Sendak placed his hand on Shiro's shoulder; the touch warming him to the core. _Sendak was being gentle and kind. This is good, he's not angry_.

 

“Officer Ulaz needs to give you a check over,” Sendak motioned to Shiro's right, and he found Ulaz reading something on his communicator. He was frowning darkly at the screen, and their eyes locked when he glanced up. Shiro swallowed, looking to the floor as he ambled over towards him. Ulaz bent down, taking his chin in his hand, tilting his face back and forth. “I'm livid with him.” Ulaz's voice was barely audible as he shot Sendak a dark look. Shiro caught from the corner of his eye that Sendak had his back turned, engaged with Throk and Haxus. “I'm livid with what he sent me; he didn't hurt you?”  
“N-No. I was sca- _shocked_ when I woke up, but it was all okay – I wanted it.” Shiro couldn't look at him. He flinched when a finger pressed at the bruise on the side of his neck. “He is pathetic.” Again, Shiro could almost miss the words.

 

“How does he seem?”  
“Aside from bruising, he appears fine.” Ulaz kept his gaze steady with Sendak, who offered him a smirk before turning. “Then we shall go to the Emperor. Champion, here.” Ulaz caught Shiro's eyes briefly; they were sad and desperate as he strode over to Sendak, leaning into the hand that stroked his cheek in faux affection. _At least you are staying here with him._ He didn't want to be back in the labs, or working on Shiro, but at least he would have access to him. He could do his best to stop the man from crumbling apart further.

 

-

 

“Champion, remain.” Shiro's head bolted up to the Emperor, then over to Sendak. He mouthed _what was going on?_ But Sendak frowned in response. “Emperor,” Sendak turned his head to Zarkon, “shall I wait for him?”  
“No. I will have him returned to your quarters in due course. I wish to speak to Champion alone.” He motioned for Sendak, Haxus and Throk to leave. Shiro felt sentries move to flank him, and metal hands push him down to his knees. His arms were cuffed in heavy metal behind his back, and as he listened to the heavy footfalls, his head was pulled back to look up at the Emperor. “Leave us,” he flicked his wrist and the sentries departed, leaving Shiro and Zarkon the only two occupants left in the throne room.

 

“Do you regret your wish?”  
“I...don't know.”  
“It is a simple question.”  
“I,” Shiro hung his head. He didn't want to be asked this question right now; he felt numb – he didn't know what Matt had said to him before the engines stole his words – burning them away without so much as a thought. He'd never know what they were, because if the rebels were awful like Nadiva, then Matt'd be dead, or worse. He'd been ruminating – had a nightmare that woke Haxus last night. Then the night before. Shiro lifted his head up to stare into the glowing eyes above him. Even if it may not be the 'right' answer, he'd be honest; “I don't regret it.”  
“I see.”

 

Zarkon moved to the vista window, motioning for Shiro to follow. He precariously got to his feet, feeling like a newborn foal as he rose upon shaking legs, and followed him over to stare outside. Cruisers moved like sharks while fighters nipped about like angry wasps. One of the gas planets loomed in the distance.  
“What is it about the Galra that made you relinquish your humanity?” Shiro tensed when he felt clawed hands pull him in front of the Emperor. He could see both of their reflections as Zarkon clamped his hands down on both of Shiro's shoulders. He swallowed back the nausea and steeled himself, trying to collect his fragmented thoughts. “My humanity was my weakness. If I was to survive here – stay sane – I needed to embrace the ways of your people, otherwise I'd just keep wishing for a death that won't come.”  
“What are the ways of my people, Champion?”  
“Absolute victory or the acceptance of death. Your intimate and loyal bonds, and of course utter loyalty to yourself and the...expansion of the Empire. You see, some of this is similar to...cultures or past regimes that span human history and I...certain aspects are comforting, appealing, or I have found solace in them.”  
“Do you refer to your lust for battle?” A hand traced up his neck and he felt Zarkon's thumb and finger press the sides of his jaw under his ears. “Yes, Emperor.”  
“You have done well to survive for so long. I still recall your bad manners in your first fight. I am pleased Commander Sendak has beaten the insolence out of you.”  
“It was deserved, Emperor,” he pushed away the little voice that kept trying to tell him none of this was right. He knew it wasn't, but he'd made his choice – the voice knew that. All of this was just a small blip – everything would get better, everything cycled.

 

“I also...have found interest in your language and customs.”  
“I have been informed. You said a tick ago that to survive here you embraced our ways; that suggests to me it is not what you wish?” The grip tightened. Shiro's eyebrow twitched at the pain but he took it. He can take it, even if it felt Zarkon was going to break it. “Back then I...wanted to escape, but so much has happened. The Commander he gave me purpose, and he's been a good master to me. I can't leave him; not now, not ever. I belong to him,” Shiro tapped his collar, “and ultimately you, Sire.”

 

“You do, Champion,” Zarkon pressed Champion's body up against the glass, “all I care for is your compliance and subjugation. To your kind, you are too monstrous, but to the Galra, after some further refining, you will be an _asset_. We are neither monsters or beasts, Champion, and so much as your arena fights are sublime to watch, the way you fight would have you killed in ticks on the battlefield.” Zarkon's thin lips tugged upwards as he observed Champion's frown in the reflection. “Speak, Champion.” Zarkon moved his knee between his legs, pressing hard enough to hear a grunt. He watched as Champion tilted his head around, looking up to Zarkon. “Put me on the battlefield and let me prove myself to you, Emperor.” Zarkon barked out a laugh, pressing Champion's cheek into the window. “You think I would waste a perfectly good gladiator? You are entertainment – not even Galran.”  
“I can use a gun and pilot! Hell, I can fight in close combat and strategise. I may not be Galran, but I'm not an idiot either. Let me do more for you and the Commander!”  
“You ask to become a soldier? You ask to conquer planets and _enslave others_ just for myself and Commander Sendak? Do you realise what you are asking of me, and do you realise what that says of yourself?”

 

It was then when Shiro's mind caught up with what had left his mouth. “I-I'm-”  
“Silence.” Shiro shut his mouth as the knee ground between his legs, his feet starting to ghost the floor. “You should know your words have consequences, and you cannot undo what is uttered on an impulsive whim.” Zarkon placed a hand on the window as he leaned in. “Perhaps I should punish the Commander again for your infractions,” a hand traced his lower back, “as it seems he has not taught you as well as I thought.”  
“It's me, not the Commander. Punish me for my mistakes.”  
“But that _would_ be punishing you; hurting what you care for.” Zarkon's voice rumbled in his stomach. “There is nothing you can offer that I cannot just take, and nothing you cherish is safe.” Shiro's body shook as he stared wide-eyed into Zarkon's narrowed ones. Somehow, and stupidly, he asked, “and now what, Sire?”

 

Zarkon chuckled as he pulled Champion's bound wrists so he was pressed up against his chest armour, balanced on his thigh. “A pointless question,” he rumbled, lazily rubbing his thigh between Champion's legs. “I just find it amusing that a slave would want others to be in a position just like him. Are you perhaps bitter? Resentful of the free?” Zarkon let him fall to his feet and pushed him against the window again, dragging the leather down. Champion still shook in fear as Zarkon traced his claws over the scarred skin. He would leave his own mark in due course, but for now, this prisoner needed to be reminded of his place. “Answer, Champion,” Zarkon eased the guard away and yanked Champion up, pushing his cock between his thighs to work up some friction.

 

Between the fear and Zarkon's swelling cock, Shiro was shaking worse then before, he hated how he was terrified, and hated more that it was stimulating. He needed to find his words, but his brain raced and couldn't focus. “I just...just...it's easier! It's easier not having to think or worry or care! It got me through the arena, through all the times like this.” He screamed out. It felt better, almost.  
“So you have accepted your place?”  
“Yes! I'm a prisoner – a gladiator – a whore, okay? I'll be anything that's required so long as I don't need to _think_ any more.”  
“You would be a mindless weapon for your captors?”  
“If it was willed,” Shiro tensed when he shouldn't of as he felt the tip of Zarkon's head press against his entrance. _I don't want this, just stop._ “I'd rather keep what little I have left, if it was allowed.”  
“Well, you can thank your Commander that is the case,” Shiro cried out as Zarkon breached inside, tears sliding down his face as he felt it push through his internal resistance.

 

“You see, Champion, you are in a very fortunate position,” Zarkon growled against the tightness as he finally filled Champion, his eyes and hands twitching. Zarkon slowly dragged himself back out, feeling something warm against his cock. He pressed himself up against Champion nipping at his cheek. “The High Priestess has seen your potential, it was why you got a weaponised arm. She thinks you could be of use, and I agree; _Commander Sendak_ agrees,” the cries and whines were wonderful, and as Zarkon pulled out further, he caught sight of the blood that stained his cock. Letting out a content snarl, he forced himself back in, thoroughly enjoying the tightness this position granted as he picked up the pace. “Your body will be augmented. You will be a weapon for the Galra, and providing you survive the augmentation, then you will enter field testing. Do not disappoint us, or I will end your life,” to emphasise his point, Zarkon gripped the exposed top of his neck and squeezed, thrusting harder into Champion. “Do you understand, Champion?” The clenches and throaty noises were a yes, Zarkon decided.

 

Shiro grunted as Zarkon settled back in his throne, he'd seen the blood that ran down his thighs and felt sick in the knowledge _this_ was the lubrication. He let the Emperor move his legs as he pleased, and felt agony surge back through him as Zarkon started to thrust again, one hand holding his hip in place, while the other dug claws into his own painful erection and thighs. Mustering strength from the reserves he couldn't fathom any more, Shiro found himself moving. He ground himself down and leaned back into his chest, letting his head roll back. “Is this how you react for Sendak?”  
“When he wants me to, Emperor,” he closed his eyes to concentrate on moving and rolling his hips, eventually he started to muster some small moans. He was feeling numb to the pain now and the shakes had settled down. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched the cruisers pass outside, occasionally moaning or crying out when Zarkon struck his prostate too hard. It was painful, but starting to remind him of Sendak at times. _Zarkon was his mentor, so of course it'd be similar._

 

Eventually, Zarkon brought Shiro's thighs up against his chest, which was painful, and drove in hard. He cried out, letting his head drop forward and then back again into Zarkon's chest. “Pleas-aah!” His whole body tensed when he felt Zarkon come. It was almost paralysing at the volume that spurted inside him, and Shiro couldn't make any coherent noise except for pained whines. He slumped forward, feeling his energy leave him, and fell from Zarkon's lap to the ground at his feet. His own erection was painful and left, but he didn't want Zarkon touching it. He closed his eyes, enjoying the darkness behind them and slowly regulated his breathing. “You did an acceptable job, but you were too tense; see it does not happen again. I do hope,” he heard Zarkon rise, and a boot roll his head over, “you enjoyed your reward for showing us such loyalty.” Shiro mustered a mumbled response, before letting his body go limp. He could feel something warm run over his ass cheek, unsure if it was blood or come or a mix of the two.

 

-

 

Sendak was genuinely not expecting Champion to come back in the state he was in, and found himself sat in the shower in his body suit cleaning him up. He'd tried to get Champion to do it himself, but he was being lethargic and seemed to want to lay down on the tiles. He was unresponsive to being licked, but was keeping close to Sendak. He hadn't spoken since he got in unless it was a reply, but even then it was short. He brushed his fingers through the hair that clung to the side of his face, pushing it back behind his ear. “You are clean.”  
“Thanks.”  
Sendak grunted as he moved to turn the water off and sighed. “Come here, Champion.” He watched him move automatically and Sendak draped a towel over his head. “Are you able to dry yourself, or do I need to do that?”  
“No thank you,” Champion settled on the floor by his leg and leaned in.

 

Sendak wrangled himself from his body suit and grabbed a towel of his own, settling down besides Champion, who in turn crawled into his lap and flopped down, very much like an actual pet. Sendak ran clawed hands over his side, letting it rest upon his hip. “I did not know the Emperor was going to take you. If I did, I would have advised.”  
“Advised what? I know how to take dick.” Champion snorted.  
“That is not what I mean. It is the accompanying roughness and lack of preparation. Did you at least take it?” He felt Champion vibrate underneath him and then he heard the laughter – something cold. “Did I take it? Of course I did! Like I have taken every fucking thing that's been shoved up there? Yeah, Sendak, I took the whole fucking thing through the pain and blood. Got to the point where I rode the Emperor like the whore I've fucking become at this point.” He allowed Champion his frustrations and just continued smoothing the towel across his side.

 

“My first time with the Emperor left me like you,” he murmured. Champion's eyes flicked up to him, “you would have me honestly believe he fucked you dry?”  
“It is the truth regardless of what you choose to believe or not. There is a reason others fear punishments with him, because it is rough,” he scratched the side of his cheek, “and I am the only one who can take that roughness, as after a while, you become accustomed to the pain, as I am sure you can agree,” he let his claws rub against Champion's hip, “after all, for a while now you have begged me to inflict more pain upon you, and it is not like we started off on the best footing.”

 

Champion hummed in agreement and lifted his organic hand over Sendak's. “It's been a really fucking shit few quintants, Sendak. I don't want you to go, I want to come with you.”  
“Sadly now you are the Champion, you have your obligations, much as I have mine.”  
“Then can you promise me something?”  
“What would that be?” Through clear discomfort, Champion pulled himself up onto his knees and placed his hands on Sendak's shoulders. “Every time you come back to Central, please come for me in the cell I'll be staying in.”  
“Why is that, Champion?” Sendak played coyly along as Champion leaned forward, grip tightening, “well don't you want to play that game you liked back before the title match?”  
“I suppose I could. Did you enjoy it?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You really enjoy yielding to me, don't you?” Sendak placed his hands against the soft fabric, and Champion shook the towel away. “It's because it's you. You've got me into a lot of things I never thought I'd enjoy.”  
“I am very glad I was gifted you.” Sendak purred, giving Champion's mouth a small lick. He returned the gesture and wrapped both his legs around his hips. “I'm glad too, and also,” Champion smoothed his hands up the back of his neck fur, mussing it out in his fingers, “I should thank you. The Emperor told me you're letting me become a weapon. How many times are you going to give me a purpose?” Sendak hesitated on replying, and when he did it was with a kiss.

 

“When I don't have to fight the warden, keep me here all for yourself, _please_.” Sendak would be lying if that wasn't enticing, and he was certainly not going to reject such an offer. “You would not wish to see Haxus or Ulaz?” He would probe, however.  
“Only if you desired, but my preference is just with yourself for now.”  
“Then,” Sendak picked Champion up in his arms and moved towards the cupboard, pulling out the quintessence needles, “you may rest for the remainder of the quintant with me, and while I await my new battle cruiser, we can have some personal time before I head out. Do not claim I do not spoil you.” Sendak mock growled and earned a happier laugh then the earlier one.

 

-

 

Shiro may have taken out just a _few_ of his frustrations on the warden, but from the roar of the crowd – apparently all Galra – they seemed to enjoy his work. He also found out his new arm allowed him to create an energy blade of some variety, which he'd stumbled upon in the heat of the moment. It was useful for the decapitation, and the Emperor seemed very pleased with his work. He dropped the head into the sand and turned back to the body. Bone and fur twisted up at awkward angles and this time he'd been allowed to really tear into the chest cavity. He paced over in morbid fascination, nudging the corpse with his foot. She wanted to see him tear her prisoners apart, so this was only a fair end for her. Regardless, he was done for the quintant. He smeared his bloody hands into his sides and rubbed his face, looking up to Sendak's box. He was really looking forward to the evening, especially if they were drinking again.

 

-

 

They had gone to one of the officer's lounges, which was unsurprisingly rowdy and full of chatter. They were meeting up with Haxus and Commander Throk again. According to Sendak; Throk and Haxus used to have 'a thing' when they were younger, but now they were mutual contacts. Regarding what, Sendak realised Haxus never told him. Shiro's guess was that they were screwing each other, because from what he gathered from the Galra, most of them had probably slept with each other at one point, or it was one giant orgy, it didn't matter. When it came down to it, Haxus had probably had as much dick at this point as Shiro.

 

“Go take this to the bar and order us some drinks,” Sendak passed him the data pad, “you know what you need to do?”  
“Yeah, when it goes to payment I press that one there, and then it's contactless?”  
“Good. You fought well today, so you may have a snack as well. Do not say what I think you are going to, Champion,” Sendak growled as Shiro placed his hand on his thigh, “that is not food.”  
“Well-”  
“It is not food.”  
“Well it's in my mouth enough,” Shiro leaned in close and Sendak pulled him onto his lap, claws pressing and kneading into his ass cheeks. Shiro made a sharp gasp in his ear as he felt Sendak poke the bottom of the plug that was sat inside him. “I will set that off in front of the entire room and they can watch you become a mess on the floor, or you can stop being so ridiculous,” his voice was playful, and Shiro sighed in mock-defeat. “You could just spank my-”  
“Champion, go,” Sendak gave him a sharp jab and Shiro complied, casting him a sultry look as he headed to the bar.

 

He had to stand on tiptoe and even then that was along the bar on the base of the counter. The bartender glanced him up and down, before she cast him a wide grin. “Never thought I'd see the Champion here of all places. What're you doing out of your cell-” she stopped when she noticed the collar – this one had pupils, so Shiro was certain she wasn't that old. He offered her a small smile, “my master is rewarding me, and I'm here to order these.” Shiro tilted the screen to her, and she nodded. “Where're you sat, Champion?”  
“That booth over there, with Commander Sendak.” He blinked at her reaction, “I literally thought everyone knew I belonged to Sendak at this point.” He was thinking out loud, but someone answered him, and their voice sounded slightly annoying.

 

“You're just real illusive, that's all,” he looked over and just stared at the Galra sat in Commander armour. “Is there something on my face?” He glanced at the bartender, who shrugged her shoulders as she poured drinks. “No, uh, you just look very young to be a Commander,” Shiro lied. He had no idea how to tell how old a Galra was, but just presumed the ones with pupils were younger. Ladnok was five thousand, but still had hers, so he had no idea if he was older, because he looked _younger_ than her. He glanced at the dark hair, that looked black in comparison to his light and dark purple fur. “Thanks, _dahfav._ ” He grinned down at Shiro, canines catching the light. _Shit, shit, shit he's kinda hot._ Oh fuck when did our tastes change? _When did we have taste? He's a giant purple cat-alien-thing and we are literally fucking the biggest purple cat-alien-thing._ Do you think his dick is barbed? _Would you stop thinking about Galra dick for about ten ticks? It's been an emotional rollercoaster these past few movements and we have to stop using sex as a fucking crutch._ But it feels good. _Yeah, and so does punching things and eating kest, and the latter is probably more healthy._

 

“Hey, uh, your drinks are ready,” the bartender pushed them towards Shiro, who blinked himself out of his internal debate. “T-Thanks,” he quickly flicked his gaze to the Galra, who was sat swirling a drink in his clawed hand. “Catch you later, _dahfav._ ” He offered Shiro a toothy grin and turned back to the bartender. Shiro took them in his hands and walked back over to Sendak, placing them carefully down. He handed back the data pad and shuffled closer into the booth.

 

“Commander, what does... _dahfav_ mean?” Sendak frowned as he took a sip of his drink. “Repeat it.”  
“ _Dahfav_.” Shiro cocked an eyebrow as Sendak scratched at the top of the sagittal crest and looked away, “is it an insult?”  
“No.”  
“Why have you got that shit-eating grin on your face?” Shiro watched Sendak lift his arm, and followed his gaze to Haxus and Throk. He gave Shiro a curious look again and settled beside Haxus, who was glancing between Sendak and him.

 

“I sense something filthy is happening?”  
“Champion was called a _dahfav._ ” Sendak took another sip of his drink as he glanced at Shiro, “do you want to explain what it means to him?” Haxus's eyebrows raised and he leaned on the table. “I _suppose_.”  
“Can someone just tell me,” Shiro was getting exasperated by this point. Haxus grinned and gave him a devilish look. “For starters, it's Galran slang, but very particular.”  
“Yes...”  
“And also plays into scents and things like that.”  
“Okay?”  
“Effectively, whoever said that to you thinks your pheromones smell intoxicating and they wouldn't mind trying to court and mate you-”  
“How the... _how are you_ alright with that?” Shiro glared at Sendak, who snorted. “I am 'alright' with that, because the term is only used towards females. Which you, last time I checked, were not.”  
“So he thinks I'm a nice smelling girl?”  
“A little more than nice-smelling, but that's pretty much the gist of it, and obviously the mating part.” Haxus and Throk shared a laugh together, and Shiro could feel his face heat up. It wasn't as derogatory as he was expecting but it was just...how?

 

“It's likely because your hair is quite long now,” Throk motioned to Shiro's braid, “but how they could confuse your gender is...an interesting one.”  
“Well his scent sometimes is a bit, you know,” Haxus glanced at Sendak, who could only stare into his drink and snort again. “I am _very_ aware. I do live with him.” Shiro took his drink and necked the thing back as quick as he could. He just wanted the snack, and maybe another drink, and then hopefully he could hide under the table for the rest of the night.

 

“So, ah, your fight was quite bloodthirsty, wasn't it?” Throk leaned back in the seat and rested his hands on his crossed leg. Shiro bolted to attention, and gave a curt nod. “It's my job as a gladiator to entertain. I also will bring honour to my Commander,” he gave Sendak a polite bow, before turning back to Throk.  
“So long as you don't think that all Galra are that useless in a fight.”  
“I would never think such a thing,” Shiro let his shoulders relax as he sat up straighter, “comparatively, I am nothing. I've never been able to defeat the Commander in sparing.”  
“But you did take his eye, I hear?”  
“He did,” Sendak stepped in at this point, “but it was by luck.”  
“Yeah,” Shiro nodded in agreement, and brought the prosthetic up, “I shouldn't of attacked where I did, and so I lost my arm in fairness to the Commander. The High Priestess gave me one.” He held it out for Throk to look at. He twisted it curiously, watching the light bounce off the metal.

 

“I am surprised he doesn't have one like your own, Commander Sendak.”  
“His is a new trial the High Priestess is working on. The designs will likely become more elaborate in time.”  
“I see. Well, I suppose it is time for more drinks, as you two got here before us. Haxus, be a _dahfav_ and go get us something?”  
“Fuck off with your rank-pulling and name-calling.”  
“Make Commander and I won't do it.”  
“Tch. Well I'll just have to put you in your place later-”  
“Alright, enough bickering. Go get drinks, Haxus. Champion, go assist.” Both Haxus and Shiro groaned, but went respectively towards the bar.

 

“What did you manage to garner from the video feeds?” Sendak rested his elbows against the table, expression unreadable. “Business I see? Fine,” Throk sniffed and pulled out his data pad, “we were not able to recover as much as I was hoping, but as you can see by the armour,” he paused the video and pointed to and a rebel tugging the other human along, “they look to be part of faction Nadiva belonged to. Also,” he took the pad back and quickly tapped the screen, “we only have a still image recovered, but this was from a few quintants' prior.” He pointed to the masked figure donned in a dark body suit, three glowing circles on their mask. “I have reason to suspect that the Blade of Marmora and this faction are working together, which means they have at minimum some allies. However it has been a long time since we've caught an image of one, so it's hard to say for certain what their numbers are like, and why they would show themselves now.”  
“Well the Red Lion is still missing. I'm certain they're the only ones who could have it.”  
“But where could they hide it?”  
“They must be on the move. Did you get an image of the cannon they used?”  
“I only have a vague one.” Throk swiped at the screen and passed it to Sendak.

 

He studied the ship and cannon. It was poorly designed by Galra standards, but for the rebels this was astounding. “I think we can confirm this is the work of Slav.”  
“I think so too.”  
“It is strange they brought it to the planet. I suppose if everything was offline, then it would tactically be advantageous.”  
“It fired upon us as we arrived, but it was too far away for us to give chase, and we needed to respond to the distress signal.”  
“We're starting to get an idea of what it looks like and what it can do, which is better then what we had previously. Have you relayed this to the Emperor?”  
“Not yet, as you wanted to view it.”  
“Make him aware,” Sendak paused the conversation as Haxus and Champion returned, setting drinks down at the table.

 

Sendak stared at the tiny glasses, looking to Haxus warily. “You have brought shots?”  
“It was Champion's terrible idea.”  
“Which you enabled.”  
“Just hush and drink the shot,” Haxus grinned as Champion knocked back a shot, then another.  
“He certainly puts them away,” Throk mused as he toyed with the sickly yellow drink and quickly drank it, wincing at the taste. “Haxus, that is _vile_.”  
“Blame Champion,” Haxus motioned to him, who was grinning as the snack he ordered was placed in front of him.

 

Sendak stole a piece, earning a growl from Champion. “He gets very protective of his food, it is quite amusing.” Sendak moved to take another while quietly easing out his communicator. He glanced down, finding what he was looking for, and pressed the screen as he went to steal again. Champion twitched, openly gasping before slamming his hands over his mouth. He glared at Sendak, who kept his face impassive. “Is there something wrong, Champion?”  
“No, _Commander_ , everything is fine.”  
“Good, then do not make such noises again, we are out in company,” he caught Haxus's sly smirk and slid the communicator towards him.

 

For the rest of the evening, he found that the plug kept moving from a steady pace to one that had him grabbing the seat having to stifle back a moan. It was worse when he had to go to the bar, and kept seeing the Commander, who'd introduced himself finally as Sniv, cast him the odd smirk as his ears twitched, and Shiro was adamant he _knew_. Even the bartender was starting to cast him odd glances and it was getting to the point he just wanted to go home and bite Sendak's dick. He was also very _slightly_ tipsy, and as he could feel his patience drain, he finally turned to Sniv. “I'm not a girl, and you can't breed me.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You called me _dahfav_ , and I've been told that...that it means I'm a nice-smelling lady who you want to bone.” Shiro tilted his head to the side when Sniv tried to contain a laugh, and failed miserably. “Oh shit, oh _man_ that's hilarious. No, no, that's what it used to mean, but it fell out of use deca-phoebs ago, now it's got a new meaning.”  
“And the fuck is that, Commander?”  
“Ehhh, watch your language, little Champion. You want me to have a word with Sendak?”  
“What does it mean? Just...just tell me,” Shiro shifted awkwardly as he felt the vibrations increase, and he could see Sniv's ears twitch and his lips curl. “Well it's similar to the original. Like damn, you smell _fine_ and I really wouldn't mind taking you apart-”  
“Can the Ancients please kill me-”  
“-but also cause you're small and a total taker.” Shiro stared at Sniv for a long moment and took the drinks on the bar.

 

Shiro climbed back onto the seat and flopped into Sendak's lap, bringing his legs up tight together. “Please, just turn the thing off, Commander. I think I'm going to get some unwanted attention at some point.”  
“You won't, no one's got the gall to come approach you if you're with me. Also,” he flicked the collar, “there is this.”  
“I just...I think they can tell at the bar. Also, that word, it has a new meaning.”  
“Oh, what's that?”  
“I'm a nice-smelling small guy who takes it up the ass.” Shiro watched as Throk and Haxus spat their drinks out and Sendak paused for a tick. “Well that is true.” Sendak ruffled his hair.  
“Can we go back soon and...” Shiro let it click for Sendak what he was asking, and the Commander pulled him up properly into his lap, “we could, but the again,” he pointed at a pair – one a female officer and the other her male slave, effectively fucking for an audience, “it is fine here.”

 

“If you're doing that, I may head off,” Throk looked up and nudged Haxus, “and you owe me for getting that spare room filthy.”  
“I suppose that's true, but can I watch and then come over?”  
“No, I'm on limited time in Central,” Throk tapped his claws against his empty glass, “and you can watch any time the Commander lets you.”  
“Fine,” Haxus whined as he downed his drink, struggling to stand as Throk moved easily from the booth. “It has been nice, but brief, catching up, Commander Sendak. I'll be sure to send you what you requested.”  
“Thank you. Be wary while you are out there.”  
“We shall be. By your leave, Vrepit Sa.”  
“Vrepit Sa.” Sendak returned the salute and watched the two head off, before turning Champion's face towards his.

 

“I would be quite content pouring more alcohol into your mouth and fucking you here,” he purred, tracing a claw over Shiro's lips. He shivered under the touch, the noise around him becoming distant as he focused on Sendak. “You've been annoying but enjoyable company tonight,” he lapped at the finger, and let Sendak push it in his mouth. He shuddered at the vibrations that kicked up, feeling his body temperature rise further; in part from the alcohol, and in part from his own arousal. “Well you did very well with your first execution match, the blade you made was quite unusual,” Sendak took the arm and studied it carefully. “The High Priestess really has done a good job already weaponising you.”  
“You did most of the leg work,” Shiro blurted out, “you've helped train me and get me to where I am now.”  
“Do not put down your own natural abilities. That is one human thing I do not mind about.”

 

He eased the plug from Shiro's ass, the thing thankfully dead, and pushed it into Shiro's pocket. “Just what I always wanted.”  
“You'll need to use it before we leave.”  
“So I get to feel completely full of you?” Shiro purred, wrapping his arms around Sendak's neck. “If you so wish.” The Commander fumbled with his clasps, and Shiro assisted, pulling it out and rubbing the tip of the head, spreading the precome around the with his fingers and earning a small grunt from Sendak, before readjusting himself for easier access. “I've wanted this since the arena figh-ahh!” Shiro bowed his head as he hissed out the rest of his moan. Sendak chuckled in his ear as he brought his hands around his hips, digging in tightly as he rocked him back and forth at an agonisingly slow pace.

 

“Did you imagine it like this?”  
“No, Commander, I didn't imagine I'd do this so...publicly.”  
“Even though you have before?”  
“This feels more intimate,” Shiro bucked his hips, forcing Sendak in deeper. “You are rather needy. Why?”  
“I am yours,” Shiro felt he was iterating the same point he had so many times already, “and it feels good.”  
“Only good?” Sendak's eye widened and he released his hands. “Better then good – amazing. I...I need it, I _want_ it,” Shiro sighed in gratitude when Sendak touched him again, feeling the claws prick through the material as he rolled his hips to the steady thrusts. “Such a good boy.” Sendak purred, forcing two fingers into Shiro's mouth. He sucked and lapped at them, making his intent known what he would like to do later.

 

Sendak caught a few glances in their direction, offering a self-satisfied smirk at those who dared eye Champion. He was aware of the curiosity that had been long-standing with the humans, particularly this one because of his aggression, but the videos from all those phoebs' ago certainly sealed it. He was still troubled by the Emperor acting so early with his intent, but knew there was a good reason for his actions he just wasn't privy to. Champion had explained more earlier before the match, however had awoken in the night with terror in his eyes. He had held Champion in his weakness, but was starting to have his reservations about being away, which was an oddity. It was likely the company, as he had kept Champion with him for quite a while now, that even when he was training, he found he missed his shallow breathing and surprisingly warm body. For a furless creature, his body was like a furnace.

 

He thrust extra hard to break him from these sentimental thoughts. He was the right-hand of the Emperor; he should not carry such feelings or thoughts for an inferior creature. He was commissioned for weapon-status, which meant other parties had a vested interest in him now. He made Champion break his almost-silent moans purposefully, aware of the attention it drew, as he brought himself closer. For as long as Champion was within his sights, he was _his_ and _his alone_. He may allow Haxus or Ulaz to amuse themselves with him, but no one would take Champion from him. If they dared, they would be subject to his abject fury. He let out a sharp growl as he came inside Champion, feeling him tighten around his cock. Champion slumped forward, the robe hanging off his shoulder. Sendak gave it a firm bite, catching the golden eyes of Commander Sniv watching from the bar. He narrowed his eye in challenge, and Sniv quickly turned away. It was as expected; no one would question his claim on the Champion.

 

-

 

Shiro stared up at the brand new cruiser, and looked to Sendak and the rest of the crew. “Is that a new model?”  
“Yes, when we are back, I will take you on board.” Sendak ruffled his hair, letting his claws linger for a little longer than normal. Shiro offered a half smile as he stared up at the cruiser again. “It's been enjoyable, this time with you.”  
“I agree.”  
“Be safe out there. Haxus and I saw what it could do,” Shiro swallowed but kept his face neutral – he couldn't show emotion right now, “however I trust you will come back alive.”  
“Victory or death, Champion.”  
“Yeah,” Shiro moved towards Sendak and pressed himself against his prosthetic gauntlet, “victory or death.”

 

“Commander, I must take him to the labs,” Ulaz glanced up from his communicator, and Sendak gave him a sharp look in return. Ulaz had finally given him his grievances formally, and Sendak had told him in no uncertain terms that if he had such an issue, to challenge him for Champion. No challenge had been requested, which was again what he'd expected. From there, he forbade Ulaz from anything remotely intimate towards him, lest he wished to be keelhauled around the cruiser. He recanted the story of the one officer he had to keelhaul once, and Ulaz had looked mortified. Sendak turned and leaned down to Champion, offering him a lick over his lips. “You will be fine, you are more prepared now, yes?”  
“Yeah, thank you, Commander,” Champion gave him a kiss back which made Sendak's ears twitch. The crew were going to take the piss later, he knew it. “Vrepit Sa, Champion.”  
“You too, Commander.” He stood to attention and gave him a small salute. In time, he'd understand he was supposed to say it back, but that was something to think about on the lonely nights.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this ended up longer then anticipated. A lot longer.
> 
> Not started the next chapter yet, but will do in due course. The Sharkon will really pick up shortly, and I don't know how many chapters of medical torture and Sharkon non-con we're going to have, but I'll say now we won't be sitting pretty for a while. I think it's why it got a bit stupid by the end of the chapter, because silly drinking times is nice...and everyone's off the clock (except Sendak who is in forever work mode). But otherwise, next chapter onwards is getting heavy.
> 
> Yeah, I wanted Sniv in here. After Thace, he's my favourite re: design. He deserved more then a few seconds and death by Haggar, but damn it, Sniv. He looks like a total fuckboy but I love him. I won't lie, I have no real idea how the fuck to write Throk, but he's there, he's trying. Also him and Haxus? May as well ship it.
> 
> Anyway! Excited to hear from you guys! Thank you for reading as always!


	37. Subject

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thank you for the lovely and supportive comments, and the kudos. I hope you guys enjoyed last chapter, and enjoy this one too. This one is rough, but it's the lesser of all the evils so far. I'm having to work myself into all this because oh /god/ there's so much I want to write about. Poor Shiro, poor Ulaz, I hate myself.
> 
> I've been doing a lot of research for this chapter to keep it within the realm of something realistic, but in honesty in some cases it's rough estimates and projection/most likely scenarios from what I've read. Shiro will exhibit side effects of having basic needs taken from him, and I have tried to be sensitive that there's a number of things at play here, as well as his ongoing depression stacked on top of it all.
> 
> But yes, torture and some dubious Sharkon later. There's the slightest hint of implied A/B/O dynamics with an alien, but nothing really is going to happen there. Also teeth are removed. Just for your knowledge.

“Okay, what's happened? You've been really cryptic lately and stuck on your communicator every time I see you.” Shiro finally broke, reaching his hand for Ulaz's. It pulled away sharply, and the stern gaze he received in reply was enough to make him back off. Ulaz pushed a hand through his hair as he walked. “It's not you, it's the Commander. I had it out with him, and he's made a real threat this time.”  
“What?”  
“Keelhauling.” Shiro mouthed the word, not sure what exactly that would entail. “What is-”  
“My person would be dragged underneath the cruiser. On a rope. One does not usually survive.” Shiro stopped dead in his tracks. “W-Why would he?” Ulaz sighed and dragged him by the hand down one of the strange small corridors that were like alleyways.

 

Ulaz tore at the clasps and pulled the front of it open, spreading the material to show Shiro the slash marks. He watched him go to reach out, but pushed his hands away. Although appreciated, they didn't have the time. “Additionally, you're going to see me in work-mode.”  
“That's bad, isn't it?”  
“For you,” Ulaz took a deep breath, “it is. It will be highly unlikely I will be there all the time, and I suspect Haggar will have eyes on me. She will likely be aware of what has transpired between Sendak and I, and...” he paused briefly, “she will likely know when she does a memory dredge. Please, even I cannot stop this,” he grabbed Shiro's shoulders, digging his claws in, “know there are things that are outside of my control. I may be the lead on your experimentation, but understand that she sits higher, and I cannot go against that. Please, just...forgive me for what I'm going to have to put you through.” Shiro stared at him, and slowly moved away. His face went neutral, and Ulaz felt a sharp pain in his chest. “We should go.” He muttered, turning and moving with purpose. “If you didn't want to do this, you could have said no, right?” Ulaz stared at the ground. He didn't understand it all, he wouldn't. “Fine, don't answer.” Ulaz had to jog to catch up with him.

 

-

 

Shiro watched Ulaz pull out his pipe and light it as he flicked through the displays. “Can you check the information there is correct?” He didn't look at Shiro, who stared down at the data pad in front of him. He confirmed it was correct to the best of his knowledge, but already wanted to grab him, just...why did it come to this? Why did he have to agree? Why did the Commander threaten and harm him, and why hadn't he told him?

 

“Stand up straight.” Shiro rose and Ulaz stalked around him, tilting his back in and raising his head. “Hold the position.” From different angles, he took scans of Shiro's body and wandered to the terminal, returning with a sample pot. “Urine sample.”  
“I can't-”  
“Then we you need to. I also need other fluid samples.”  
“Others?”  
“Yes, Champion, others. Saliva, ejaculation-”  
“Why the fuck do you need that?” Shiro's temper flared as he squared up to Ulaz, teeth bared. Ulaz scowled at him before he was suddenly down on the floor, his prosthetic arm pinned to his back. “It is required and that is all you need to know.”  
“It's invasive.”  
“It doesn't matter what you think,” Ulaz held Shiro until he went limp under his weight. “It is going to get a lot more invasive then that.” With that he rose, watching Shiro push himself up from the floor. He didn't look at Ulaz, but just returned to the table. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ulaz didn't respond as he busied himself with the scan results. He had too much to do, and he didn't like this animosity which was likely only going to get worse.

 

He had made a grave mistake allowing himself to become close with Shiro, especially since he was a gladiator. His eventual fate to the labs for experimentation was predictable, and Sendak had not helped in that at all with his manipulation and conditioning. He cast Shiro a quick glance, the man staring at the pot in his hands. It wasn't that he was a lost cause, because there was still _something_ to salvage. It would just take a huge amount of time and for him to be removed from the situation, which from what he'd seen earlier, was becoming harder by the quintant. He knew earlier was a display, he knew that Shiro had no idea what was actually going to happen to him, and he also knew that he couldn't watch him crumble if he told him. The idea of going rogue had crossed his mind a few times, but Thace had brought him back; he'd have no allies if he did, and Shiro would be in a worse position.

 

“As there are no arena fights scheduled for a while, certain tests will be undertaken now.”  
“And they are?”  
“We are going to see how your body copes without food, water and sleep to begin with.” Ulaz had to re-enter a mindset he never wanted to again, and he despised every fibre of himself. He knew the answer to this, but the High Priestess had to witness it _herself_. “You will be taken soon to have more samples taken.” He watched Shiro swallow, and glanced back to the displays; not reading what was on the screen. “There will be no reprieve from what you are about to undertake. Do you understand?” He let the heavy silence sit for dobosh's, until a surprisingly even, “yes,” came from Shiro. He looked quickly to find him staring back, face unreadable.

 

-

 

Shiro winced as he was rolled over, feeling his wrists and ankles held down again in the restraints, and the energy rope affixed to his collar. They'd just taken another sample of his spinal fluid, and another for some pleural fluid, whatever that was. It hurt, that was about all he had to say. He watched through uneasy eyes as the druid pressed their gangly fingers against his abdomen, before stabbing the point in over the remains of the stab wound scar and drawing some liquid from there. He screwed his eyes shut and counted his breaths, before switching to counting the rising heartbeat in his chest. He frowned, cracking open an eye to see the container his blood was being drawn into. He'd donated blood once before but that was too much in there. _What do they need that much for?_ Shiro flicked his gaze to the monitor, frown deepening as he listened to the beeps of his heart rate. Hospitals were better than this.

 

-

 

“Keep running,” the druid prodded Shiro sharply in the rib with a shock-stick. He yelled out, stumbling over his own feet. He felt sick and ready to keel over, his muscles and chest burning as he tried to keep going. His skin was soaked in sweat, and if they kept depleting his finite water supply, he'd be feeling the effects of dehydration soon. He remembered the feeling, vaguely, just before they were put on Sendak's cruiser for the first time. He remembered never wanting to feel it again way back then.

 

A crash caught the druid's attention. They looked up from the display to find the subject on the ground, the tube connecting to the oxygen tank swinging pathetically above the treadmill. They moved towards the body, pressing the shock-stick against the subject's side. “You are not to rest.” They watched its body twitch. It whined out in pain, and tried to move. “We still require additional samples. You will be returned to your cell afterwards.” They bent down to lift the subject, but it was unable to remain on its feet and fell down again, chest heaving as it gulped for air.

 

-

 

Shiro would be grateful for the cold air against his skin if he wasn't getting injected in his rear with anaesthetic, or was it aphrodisiac? He wasn't sure. He still hadn't had chance to come down yet from the running and he felt too sick and heavy to move or fight. He hadn't even been here a quintant and already he wanted to leave. Shiro's eyes widened as he felt something cold press and ease inside with no resistance. He thought it pressed against his prostate, but the feeling quickly left. _It was anaesthesia_. He swallowed against his dry throat, watching his reflection in the mirror above him. He was cuffed again but this time loosely chained.

 

“W-What the fuck is that?”  
“A collection receptacle.” The druid's response held no tone to it as the _thing_ fitted it around his cock. Shiro tried to scrabble and twist away, but it was met with the shock-stick pressing against his thigh. His body jolted upwards as he yelled out, cursing as he felt feeling in his groin. “If you find this arousing, you will enjoy the feeling of this. Usually the device is used on animals, or those with problems with ejaculating.” The druid lifted a wire towards Shiro, who wondered if he looked paler then earlier. This was a new type of humiliation; this type he didn't enjoy.

 

He counted the footsteps of the druid as it moved away. It stopped and he heard fingers tapping, before he felt his prostate stimulated _intensely_. It felt as if Sendak and Haxus had hit him there at the same time, and though only a few ticks, he screamed as he came. His nerves fired pleasure out through his body, and he at least felt a tiny bit better.

 

That was until it happened again and another orgasm was ripped from him.  
Then a few ticks later.  
Then the same amount of time again.  
Every few ticks, his body would spasm as he was forced to keep coming. It hurt; he wasn't able to keep this up. “S-Stop!” It quickly stopped feeling good; it was bordering into hyper-sensitivity and he was physically drained; they'd milk him dry.  
“It will end when enough has been collected.”  
“How much do you even need?” He watched the druid move towards the container and pressed it's finger against a point. “You still must yield more.” Shiro's eyes widened and a sob escaped his lips. “I c-can't.”  
“You will.” The druid used the stick again, and Shiro screamed.

 

-

 

Ulaz had taken him to a cell within the lab. He wasn't allowed to be around the general slave populous, so he was to be confined here – away from anyone else. He eased Shiro up onto the cot, and Shiro just flopped down, limbs unmoving. He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Ulaz clipped something around his human wrist.

 

“You realise you are not allowed to rest.”  
“You can't be serious?”  
“The band will administer a shock if you fall asleep. It also monitors your vitals.”  
“Why's this...happening?”  
“It is what the Commander agreed to when he allowed you to be weaponised. He knows exactly what you will endure,” Ulaz stared down at him, eyes frigid. Shiro couldn't look at him, he couldn't comprehend why Sendak would-  
“He does not care for you. You are nothing but an amusement – a toy, pet, whatever you want to call it – to him. Every action and 'affection' he has shown you has ulterior motives behind it.” Shiro managed a scowl up at Ulaz. “Why should I believe you?”

 

Ulaz tempered his response. “I have known him considerably longer and privy to more information then you.”  
“Why?” Shiro's voice cracked as he coughed. Ulaz wanted to hold him, take him away, but it wasn't safe; he couldn't. “The Commander has forbade any relations. I told you already, and will not repeat myself again. Besides,” he hooked the material around Shiro's neck away, pressing the obvious teeth marks left behind, “you seemed content enough to allow these.” Shiro flinched away under his touch, and Ulaz moved to the door.

 

He heard the click and drew his legs up to his chest, running his fingers over the marks. _Ulaz is lying about him, he's lying._ Is it jealousy? _Maybe?_ Maybe it's not though. _I don't know but the Commander wouldn't want us to be hurt, right?_ Well apparently we shouldn't be. _Why does it feel it's only going to get worse?_ Because it probably will. _It was humiliating...I'd rather be fucked with a sword handle again._ Okay that's a bit too much. _Do you think this is what hell is like?_ No. I think we're deeper then that now.

 

Shiro's body shuddered as he mumbled to himself, eyes twitching as the dobosh's turned to vargas. He kept cycling back around, unable to break his loop of thoughts. He buried himself in the blanket when he started feeling cold, but it didn't warm him much at all. He still felt sick but didn't even have the energy to move or try and vomit – he didn't want to taste his own bile if he couldn't wash away the taste. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, and as he felt himself slowly drift, he was jolted back to awakeness.

 

He heard a sharp ringing noise in his ears and tried to shake it away. It wouldn't budge. The shapes of the room contorted and distorted around him as he could feel sleep try and pull him in, but he dare not close his eyes in fear of another painful shock. He felt alone for the first time in phoebs, and wanted desperately for some type of comfort. _You're a wreck, so desperate and reliant on others._ No I'm not. _Yes you are! Look at you, shaking so pathetically! Sendak would punish you for such a display. You've been told you cannot rely on anyone, so stop bothering. You are alone; cope with it._

 

The darkness around him wobbled, if that was possible. He hated that they told him he couldn't sleep, yet created an environment that made his body naturally _want_ to sleep. Shiro would groan but it hurt, he'd ball his fists but it hurt. Everything hurt. His eyes were dry and itchy, his head felt awful, and he took to just flicking his eyes about, occasionally shifting his body slowly when he became too uncomfortable, which was frequently. When he mustered enough strength, he started scratching a metal finger into the wall. He licked his dry lips, he'd do this every quintant, try and understand time while he was here.

 

-

 

“I knew you'd come back here. I'm not letting you.”  
“Thace, please I just-”  
“We're going to sit down and talk about this, Ulaz. If you keep doing this to yourself, what happens when you take it too far?”  
“I've been _vile_ , Thace.”  
“Then you can tell me all about it. Stop bottling it all up,” Thace grabbed Ulaz by the hand and walked him to the door. “I don't care if we have to be up all night, I'm not letting you harm yourself.” Ulaz remained silent as he was marched through his own door and pushed down to the sofa. He ran his hand through his mohawk as Thace settled opposite. “What're they doing to him?”  
“Standard experimentation and augmentation.”  
“Augmentation for what?”  
“Weaponisation.” Ulaz glanced up, dragging his claws across his legs. “She's given him a condensed particle cannon in his arm, Thace. You add how he fights in the arena to the mix and...he's not undefeatable, but if we had to kill him, we might be going down with him.” He watched Thace lean forward. “Kolivan needs to know.”

 

-

 

_The orders to open the door immediately were vehemently ignored as Shiro touched the dark circles around his eyes while the other hand gripped the counter firmly. He'd pulled the monitors off and had forced himself to the bathroom, locking himself in. They were making this awkward, all he'd done was fall over and bang his head accidentally. He'd been exhausted and his legs hurt a lot, which as he'd kept saying was due to the training and classes he was taking presently. It was humiliating being brought in like this. It was just a fall._

 

“ _Shiro, we need to go over the test results with you, it's very important.” He could hear his doctor shouting now. He groaned, pushing himself from the side, before his legs suddenly buckled and he fell forwards, yelling out in pain as his head struck the tiles. Distantly, the bangs intensified against the door._

 

This throat burned through the screaming. It felt dry and cracked, and he couldn't take in any moisture from the air because it too was dry and sterile. The High Priestess continued her memory dredge, pausing every so often to take notes, before starting again. She ignored his screams and cries and pleas, and Shiro couldn't even will himself to think of anything else, because he _couldn't_ except see flashes of memories he didn't recall and others he did. All he could do was endure, and that itself was painful when it was stacked on top of the deep body pains. He'd rather be milked again if that was the case.

 

-

 

The subject was unable to move itself properly and had reported feeling dizzy. It appeared the species could not retain water for long under exertion. It would later need to be trialled again, but under sedentary circumstances. The druid was grateful the subject had stopped making as much noise as the previous quintant, and they closed the door to the on-site cell. If the High Priestess could, she would remove the voice box entirely.

 

“Officer Hepta, you will be in charge of observations for the night cycle. You will handover to Senior Technician Ulaz upon his return.”  
“Understood.” Hepta nodded and moved to the door, pushing open the hatch to have a look inside. It was weird seeing Shiro, who he was told he could only refer to as 'subject' if he spoke about him, like this. He just didn't move or do anything. Hepta bet that if they sparred, he'd beat the living shit out of him right now, and that felt wrong. He wasn't going to spar with him, but it was just that the arena Champion lay in a little cell, all limp and shaky and pale, and he wasn't allowed to feed him. He just had to sit and watch.

 

Hepta knew it was his job to do that; and he'd seen the other things, because at this point they were things to him, brought in and experimented on. Then there was what he heard about what lurked down in Haggar's deep lab, as was the nickname around here. That was where the remains of the gladiators went, apparently. He paused for a moment. He hoped that Shiro wouldn't go there.

 

When he'd get back he'd hug Kaleska really tightly. They both knew what he did, but he never told her about what happened here. She was already well-versed in it. Maybe, as he pulled out the data pad and brought up Shiro's vitals and the chart, she could help Shiro. It'd be good for them to have each other, she'd been really depressed lately and Hepta and Ladnok were at a loss to really help her.

 

-

 

“Shiro?”  
Shiro tilted his head around, searching the darkness for the voice. He couldn't see anyone there – and he shouldn't, he was alone.  
“Shiro, look at me.”  
He groaned to himself. _I'm already fucking hallucinating. Am I that fucking weak?_ He flinched when he felt a weight over his chest. It felt like it was physically there, pressing him down, even though there was _nothing_. He closed his eyes and released a long breath. As he cracked them open again, they met a pale face framed by black hair and unique amethyst eyes. Shiro flinched, he was hallucinating, there was no way, no possible way in _hell_ he was here with him. They just stared at each other. Sometimes he was gone when he blinked, and other times he was there again, just giving him a little smile. It looked like one that told him everything was going to be okay, but he was probably projecting at this point.

 

Keith didn't exist and none of this was real. It had maybe been forty vargas so far.

 

-

 

Ulaz and Hepta had to carry the limp body out of the cell by the start of the third quintant. Shiro was hallucinating and disorientated, and his heart rate had spiked to the point where he had a fit. He'd fell off the metal cot and landed on the floor, adding a head injury to the list of things that were wrong. Between them, they laid him out on the table and Hepta fetched a drip. Ulaz watched with tight lips as Shiro's head rolled to the side, eyes unfocused and mouthing words.

 

At least there was one result to give to Haggar; under physical exertion, dehydration would hit a critical point at three quintants. Death would likely follow in another quintant or two. He watched as Hepta inserted the drip. He studied Shiro, who's pupils were fixated on the tube that led down to his arm. “You will be rehydrated. Sleep and food are still not allowed.”

 

-

 

“Shiro.”  
 _Ahh, it's started again._ On the odd occasions, he'd seen phantoms hovering on the cusp of his field of vision. Sometimes he'd hear noises, like he swore he heard a saw drone and someone laugh. At one point he was certain he could hear the ship creak, but he was probably imagining that, like the rest of it. He looked to Keith, who was once again perched by his feet. _Always out of reach_. Well, he's only out of reach in reality. _We can't sleep._ We can daydream.

 

It was easier to escape to a daydream then he thought, his mind quickly constructing some vague world that, admittedly, was unstable in places as it shifted and flickered, but what didn't was Keith, completely opaque and touchable. Shiro didn't want to fuck him, he just wanted company, someone to talk to. His thoughts paused the daydream, unsure if it was bad he was thinking of Keith as opposed to the Commander. Maybe it was because he knew Sendak would come back.

 

Yeah, that was probably it.

 

Keith? No, no he won't see him again, and he guessed, as he looked around him, he could understand Keith's loneliness a lot more. He'd never had an issue about being lonely, because he was able to make friends easily and he ultimately always had a supportive network. Building that in a place with such a cultural disconnect was hard, and even though he'd been here for so long, he was still struggling to get it at times. Keith had been through such turbulence as a kid – something he didn't deserve – and understandably found it hard to let people in. He was starting to unlearn that with Shiro, even if it was a step forward and then several back at times. He tried, but it was the others as well. He forgot how cruel teenagers could be.

 

 _But then they were also jealous of him as well._ That's true, what with that one kid on his case. _If he's done anything to Keith._ I know, I agree. _Do you think the Commander will just let us go back to give him a gut-punch?_ We both know that it'd kill him. _Shame._ I didn't say I disagreed with the sentiment. _Could have ruined your career if he was overheard._ Doesn't matter now but yeah I guess. _Make him pay._ We literally can't move.

 

From somewhere, he had a strange feeling, like he was being watched. Shiro looked around the empty cell. Something scampered behind him, under him, he didn't know where. He smashed his prosthetic arm down, regretting the movement because he caught the side of his leg. He stumbled up from the bed, moving unsteadily on his feet. “Where the fuck are you hiding? What the fuck are you?” He didn't need little phantoms of space rats or whatever pissing him off. He was already in a foul temper.

 

“Shiro?” He whirled around, over-balancing himself and stumbling around the room into the other wall. He yelled out in pain and surprise. Matt was grinning over at him, and he watched him walk over towards the cell door as it opened. “C'mon, Shiro, let's get outta here.” On unsteady feet, Shiro followed. He'd come back! He could go back to Earth. He moved to touch Matt's shoulder, but felt the cold press of metal.

 

The cell was as dark as it always was. Shiro grabbed at his head and fell against the door, striking it with the prosthetic as he let out a sob. He struck it again for good measure a few times until it opened. His body was lifted and placed back on the cot, a light shone in his eyes. “They look pretty red. I think I'll need to get the Technician to look at you in the morning.”  
“M-Morning?”  
“Yeah it's the night cycle.”  
“How many quintants has it been?”  
“Since you came here? Uh, five?”  
“Is it five?” Shiro grabbed Hepta's armour and pointed to the wall. “I count six. Don't lie to me!”  
“It's five, Sh-subject.” Hepta pulled himself away and quickly made for the cell door, shutting it behind him. With shaking fingers, Shiro counted the lines in the wall he'd made.

 

He could only count five now.  
The wall was lying to him.  
“Shiro.”

 

-

 

“Do you understand what I asked of you?”  
“No.” Ulaz made a note that comprehension functionality was becoming impaired by the sixth quintant. Along with what Hepta had told him about the night cycle, and from the observations made, paranoia and illusions were kicking in, as well as impairments to vision. Ulaz had been counting the lines Shiro had been scratching into the walls; it made him sick to his core.

 

Even though there had been a slight pick-up in his lucidness since he was back on fluids, the sleep deprivation was clearer now. He rarely complained of feeling hungry, and Ulaz was sure his body was eating into its fat reserves. It was notable when he wore the body suit that a few places had lost a bit of weight, because of the folds and creases. It wasn't totally notable, but clear as day to him.

 

“You will run again. We are still testing your endurance.”  
“I physically _can't_. It just keeps getting shorterer – I mean less, short.” He scrubbed his hands into his hair, muttering to himself again as he looked to the side. He stopped then smiled, offering a small laugh. Ulaz's brow furrowed. This was odd. He checked his vitals, which were all running at the same decreased levels as they had been, but frowned. Shiro had been known for a while to mutter to himself on occasions, which eventually he chalked up to be a coping mechanism, but this was different; he wasn't staring off into space.

 

“Who are you talking to, Champion?”  
“Keith, why?”  
“There is no one here except us.” A pause.  
“Well, he's here, so fuck off.”  
“Is this typical or atypical of your species?”  
“I dunno.”  
“Do you understand what I asked you?”  
“No. Can I just...do whatever test I have to do?”  
“You said you physically couldn't run.”  
“Did I? Ah, yeah, yeah I did.” Shiro pushed himself on unsteady legs, chuckling a little when he had to steady himself, looking again to the side. _If Sendak saw him like this, he'd have a fit._ If it wasn't for the gag order, he would. If Sendak thought it appropriate to send him degrading videos of Shiro, then he doubted he'd like to see what he was like now. “I'm taking you to run a brain scan.” Ulaz rose from his chair and guided Shiro from the room. He squeezed his arm a little tighter, and felt Shiro knock his hips against him.

 

Looking at the scan, Ulaz decided that Shiro was allowed to sleep again. It should hopefully help the mood fluctuation and everything he was imagining. If it continued, then he'd have to start looking through his notes and the files from Earth he'd slowly been translating himself. Ulaz could turn off the shock aspect of the band now, it had at points been shocking him several times a dobosh. Still, it was six quintants' without sleep under physical exertion.

 

-

 

“Start the subject back on a steady diet when appropriate.” Haggar withdrew her hand from his cheeks. She'd given Officer Hepta the task of formulating a dietary plan for the subject, and was pleased with how well he had done. She would see about promoting him to a Technician soon if his work continued to this degree during the project.

 

Regardless, twelve quintants' without food was acceptable. Like the the fluid intake, it would need to be monitored during a period of inactivity. She cast her eyes back over the body – bruised and cut from his falls and walking in to things. Haggar had been informed about him talking to imaginary people, and the scans had caused Ulaz some concern. It just meant that when she could have him in her personal lab, it would be easier to distort his reality, and easier to keep in line when the quintessence usage was due to pick up.

 

-

 

The Emperor had finally made his first summons, and Shiro was led on unsteady feet in blinders that kept his eyes front-facing. It was nice, not having the visual distractions. A few vargas or quintants' ago – he didn't know when any more – they wanted to check how light affected his eyes. At one point he felt he was about to go blind, but he didn't, but he did have little lights flash across his vision which had made Keith, and Matt was there too, look like they were glowing and flashing between existence like in a cartoon he remembered watching as a kid. Unless that was a dream – he didn't know. He'd been lost in vivid dreams most night cycles and for good portions of the day during the points between experiments.

 

Unless he was being questioned, he didn't speak to anyone. Ulaz and Hepta had started to keep their distance a little after he managed to get out of his restraints because the guard hadn't done it properly. He was proud he managed to smash up some equipment. Apparently it was important. He ended up restrained by the druid with the shock-stick. They used some magic to hold him and just zapped him a few times until he went limp. Or was that yester-quintant? He was still messed up from the denial of his basic needs, and food was still difficult to keep down.

 

Shiro was met by some pretty-looking aliens in silky robes that looked so, so soft. He wanted to curl up and sleep in them. Not the aliens, although if he pulled out the guts and made enough space he might be able to warm his back against a few of them. _No, stop that line of thought._ Suck a dick, rational side. _We're probably going to anyway._ Shiro wasn't sure if he wanted dick right now as he was handed over to a short concubine. He stared down at it, wondering how the fuck it took Zarkon's dick. “You're so small.” He didn't realise what he said out loud. They looked up at him, shrugging in response, before leading him away.

 

He didn't have the energy to shoo them away as they bathed him. Their hands moved cautiously over his body, perhaps through fear. Most people knew the stories of his battles, and how he fought, Zarkon probably had told them, or the guards. One went to take out the braid, which he did snap at. Smacking their hand away, he glared as he teased it out himself. “Don't touch.” He found himself ordering, he probably shouldn't do that.

 

His skin was patted dry and scented with strange oils that smelt really nice but really weird. They dressed him in loose translucent black and purple fabrics that left nothing to the imagination, and attached thin chains between his piercings. The bareness didn't bother him much, and he was less bothered when he was settled back into a chair and the small concubine pulled his face down to apply something around his eyes, smoothing it out with her fingers. He'd been tarted up similarly back in the brothel; it wasn't anything new, and Sendak had said it was likely he would at some point. He didn't confirm or deny this had happened to him, but Shiro had an idea on the answer.

 

“The Emperor likes us clean and prepared.”  
“Am I fucking myself or is someone else doing it?” He answered briskly. He was feeling done lately, and his usual politeness was out the airlock. She glared up at him, slapping his face. “For that, someone else will be doing it.” She stared at him as she clapped her hands, a guard escort appearing from seemingly nowhere. _She is clearly magic._ No, no they've probably just been stood behind the screens. _Magic, Shiro, that's real life space magic._ It's not magic, for fuck sake.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he was sure for a split second he saw Adam scowling at him. He could feel the growl in his throat, even though again, he couldn't be here. It felt like since he'd rejected home, his mind had decided that after _phoebs_ of not thinking about it much, he needed to _constantly_ be falling back to it. He'd screamed at himself internally, and kept asking 'why', but never received an answer, just more memories. Unless that was the answer, just a constant reminder that made him feel more and more bitter every time he relived them.

 

He was lead into the Emperor's chambers and placed on the bed. Presently, he was alone, which suited Shiro just fine. He ran his human hand over the sheets. They were exceptionally soft, and it surprised him a little that the Emperor would be the kind that enjoyed soft things. Then again, Sendak's fur after he bathed was terribly soft, so perhaps he had a thing for it. Drawing his legs up, he closed his eyes and focused inward; he couldn't allow himself to speak out of turn here, otherwise he'd invoke the Emperor's wrath, which would also extend to the Commander. He had to be well-behaved and relaxed – not like last time. _Reign it all in, reign it back. Focus, focus._

 

The doors opened again and Shiro watched a single slave walk in. He tilted his head to the side. “Didn't we meet before?”  
“Yes, Champion.” They closed the distance and settled next to him, giving his body a quick once over. “You rode the Commander in front of us – you were really into it.”  
“It feels really good,” Shiro stared down into the sheets, curling his fingers into them. “You're not quivering like a leaf, I'm guessing...?” Shiro watched them turn, pointing to the scar across the shoulder to their hip, along with cross-hatched scarring. Shiro hummed in response. “Complying makes it easier. You get used to it after a while.”  
“Yeah, yeah you do. Name's Arasgi, not like it matters.” Arasgi shrugged and crawled towards Shiro, pushing him down firmly.

 

“The Emperor will be with us in half a varga, and I don't want him to be disappointed with my job.” He pushed the fabric around Shiro's hips up and pressed his fingers between his legs, toying with different pressures. Shiro bit back a small moan and pulled his arms free. He wasn't back to full strength yet, but hell was he going toyed about with. With his prosthetic, he grabbed Arasgi's hip and squeezed tightly as he pushed him back. He lifted himself with his human hand until he was on his knees and pounced with all his weight on top of him.

 

Arasgi glanced him up and down again as Shiro dragged his fingers over his pale chest. “You know _you're_ supposed to be getting attention, not me, right?”  
“We have half a varga, right? Let me work out some frustrations, then you can do it back.” Shiro toyed with the slit, massaging it with his fingers slowly. Arasgi groaned and waved their hand. “You come inside, and the Emperor is going to snap your dick off. Trust me on that.”  
“Noted.” Shiro bent over the body, more lithe then he expected even compared to his current frame, to nip and bite at the soft skin. He purred against the ear, earning a shiver from the man underneath him as he stimulated the slit, eventually feeling a tapered end emerge. Shiro grinned into his chest, biting hard against the skin and earning a whine. He moved his fingers around, and felt the signs of slick. He knew of it from a few aliens and from himself under the influence. “Aphrodisiacs?”  
“Natural response. It's-”  
“Fine. Easier, honestly,” Shiro inserted his fingers, growling in contentment at the sharp whines and gasps he brought out.

 

He rolled Arasgi on to his stomach and pulled his hips up to probe deeper. Shiro leaned over his back, biting at his ear. “You're fucking _soaked_.”  
“And...you're...rough. Be _carefu-ahh!_ ” He bucked back against Shiro's fingers, and he made a soft laugh, nipping again. “It gets better, trust me.”  
“I don't know if I can, you're not like us; you're more gladiator then concubine.” He dropped his face into the blankets, whining and forcing himself back into Shiro's fingers. Shiro smirked down at him, twisting them again with purpose. “Take it back.”  
“Make me.” Arasgi held his gaze and Shiro removed his fingers. He flipped him to his side and hoisted his leg up, setting between his thighs and teasing the entrance. Apparently he could get hard. That was at least promising. He pushed in without warning, not like Arasgi whined out in pain or anything, as far as he could possibly go.

 

-

 

“ _Fuck_ , you're keeping me in like a bitch in heat!”  
“H-Harder!”  
“Keep making those slutty moans, you fuckin' whore!”  
Both the slaves were lost in each others company until Zarkon settled at the edge of the bed. He'd stripped himself of his armour, and was amused watching his concubine fuck Champion senseless; his teeth around Champion's shoulder and locked in place around his body, hissing out his orgasm. He was allowing Arasgi to do so, as unlike him, Champion was unable to be bred. He had no desire to breed this slave, but there was an option if he changed his mind at a later point.

 

“Sire,” Arasgi pulled himself off Champion, bowing low. Champion hastily followed, although flopped more then bowed into the sheets. Zarkon looked between them, noting the scents were terribly mixed. “Champion, did you mount my concubine?”  
“Yes, Emperor.” He pressed his face further into the sheets and Zarkon glanced at Arasgi. “Did you allow it?” He would end Champion here and now if he had taken his concubine without his consent. “I did, Emperor. It was enjoyable,” he submissively came to his lap on hands and knees, pressing his head against Zarkon's chest. Zarkon nodded slowly, and tilted his head up. “You will be rewarded for your work later. I will send for you.”  
“Thank you, Sire,” Arasgi bowed their head and took Zarkon's hand in both of his, kissing it gently, before moving away, smoothing out their rumpled garments.

 

Shiro felt claws move under his jaw and rose with them to look straight into Zarkon's eyes. “You will not do that again, understand?”  
“Yes, Sire.” Shiro's head dropped and he let Zarkon push him against his groin. “Please me, Champion.”  
“Of course, Sire.” Shiro glanced up, before wrapping both his hands around Zarkon's cock and giving it a tight squeeze – particularly with the prosthetic. Zarkon growled, digging his claws into his hair. He moved and flipped Shiro onto his back, before straddling his face and forcing himself in. At first Shiro spluttered, but he quickly evened his breathing out. With tentative hands, he watched Zarkon's reaction as he shifted his body very slowly, bringing his hands up hold just under his hips. This was allowed, and Shiro could better brace now he had his feet planted into the sheets, toes gripping the fabric. He wanted to suggest it'd feel better if his head was leaning over the side of the bed, but he couldn't risk it. He'd take it as it was; he'd take it like the whore he was still trained to be. He let his eyes roll back into his head as he felt Zarkon's length hit the back of his throat, and he pressed his teeth down.

 

Zarkon pulled out abruptly. He pulled Shiro up by his hair and brought his fingers to his mouth. “These,” he pressed against his canines, “won't do.”  
“I-In what way, Sire?”  
“I enjoy teeth, these do nothing to stimulate me.” Shiro's blood ran cold when he felt Zarkon's claws press against his gum, and his body held tightly against Zarkon's. He wanted to fight and he wanted to run, but all his body could do was break out in a clammy sweat and breathe quickly as he shrieked out in pain as Zarkon ripped a tooth out.

 

Champion went limp in his arm. Zarkon gazed down, staring at the tooth and then the slave in turn. He placed it to the side, and proceeded to pull out the other three. Haggar would like these samples, and he would be happy with Champion having more appropriate teeth. If he was going to be augmented, then he could have cosmetic ones as well. Sendak would likely enjoy it, the masochist he could occasionally be. Zarkon watched the blood run from his mouth onto his arm. Zarkon smeared his fingers through it; it truly was a beautiful colour.

 

Shiro bolted up, disorientated momentarily and in pain as he looked around. _The Emperor's quarters._ Why did his mouth taste of blood? He wanted to spit it out, but found himself swallowing it back down, coughing into his hand. “You awaken. These,” Shiro brought his hand to his mouth, pressing where his canines used to be, “will be better soon.” Shiro nodded slowly, swallowing again, as Zarkon placed his teeth in a tiny container he got from fuck knew where. The calmness – why was he so calm, how was he so calm? Shiro didn't understand; he never could.

 

He was pulled into Zarkon's chest again, body shaking like it did the last time. “Do I need to make you drunk every time I wish for you to warm my bed?”  
“N-No, Sire,” Shiro struggled out. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and his jaw ached. He was certain Zarkon must have smacked him awake. “I thought you enjoyed pain, Champion? I heard you beg Commander Sendak for it?” He pliantly moved for Zarkon, letting him push him down into the sheets so he could see the Emperor pull his legs apart, pressing them back against his chest.

 

Zarkon ran a clawed finger over the loosened entrance. Arasgi was good at loosening the others up. Regardless, he pushed his fingers back into Champion's mouth, before placing the wet and bloody fingers inside him. This time he didn't scream, but he moaned and pressed himself down against him. Zarkon watched his body twitch, brow knitting and expression one of uncertainty. “You fear this?”  
“I'm just not...used to you, Sire.”  
“I see.” Zarkon slowly finger-fucked him. He'd disciplined him, and now he could focus on relieving his desires.

 

He waited until Champion was writhing under his touch. He kept him pinned to the bed with a single hand on his chest, four fingers deep within him, and whose cock was swollen and leaking. “You are so much better-behaved with something inside you.” All Zarkon received was a moan in response. “You have my permission to speak, Champion.” He watched as he cracked an eye open. “I'm scared of fucking up, Sire.” Zarkon tilted his head to the side. “Explain.”  
“If I can't please you or do anything right, I'm scared you might,” Champion swallowed again, “might punish the Commander or kill me. It's pressure, Sire,” Zarkon stopped moving his fingers for a tick. “I may find fear arousing,” he continued making Champion twist and writhe again, “but recall I own a harem. I do not go killing half my harem every time one is scared. You seem to mean something to Sendak, for whatever reasons he has.” Zarkon really did not _want_ to be having this conversation, but if it meant that having him at later points would be easier, he would allow himself this torture. Besides which, Sendak was far too fond of Champion; lending him that sword.

 

Shiro felt a little bit better, but it was hard to feel safe around an alien who'd just ripped his teeth out and could snap him in half like a twig. Having said that, Sendak; everything with Sendak. Shiro pulled his legs back up to his chest, and rolled his head to the side in submission. “Use me, my Emperor,” the most he managed to do was keep an eye trained on Zarkon. Letting out a content rumble, he watched his cock press against Shiro's loosened entrance. He braced the sheets as Zarkon...slowly pushed in. It was actually a lot, more manageable, and the underside- “fuck, fuck that's, that's,” he breathed out, unclenching his hands but curling his toes as the point hit his prostate, and then _pressed_ against it.

 

Sendak had told him Champion was noisy, but at least this scream was one of pleasure; he knew so because he held the same look about him as any of his concubines once they realised to accept. With slow strokes, Zarkon growled as he thrust into Champion, feeling the walls naturally constrict and relax. “Are you trying to keep me inside you?” He watched Champion nod yes, his hair out around him. Zarkon smoothed it back as he repositioned himself, raising Champion's hips as he did so he could grind down easier. He screamed again, thrusting himself back against Zarkon and trying to wrap his legs around him.

 

Zarkon pushed them down again against his chest before just driving himself inside over and over, earning shouts and screams and whines and moans as Champion came undone beneath him. The bloody saliva ran from his mouth; he'd been drooling for a while now, and Zarkon did _enjoy_ when they did that. He kept thrusting into him harder, watching as slowly his head arched backwards. He saw the toes curl and his fingers grab the sheets underneath him, Champion's chest presented to him. Zarkon could rip his heart out at any moment, but he still offered himself.

 

“You can only come from my cock, or you do not.”  
“ _Yes_ , Sire,” Shiro breathed, rolling his hips in time with Zarkon's thrusts. It wasn't long until the Emperor came, and Shiro did too after the point stabbed at just the right place. He came all over his stomach, and some caught his face. Zarkon smirked down at him as he remained in place, watching Shiro pant heavily. “Be aware, we are not done.” Shiro cocked his head to the side, uncertain what he meant. He quickly understood as Zarkon lifted him to his lap and moved again. “Your job while I work this evening is to keep this hard. I expect you to make me orgasm again.” Shiro nodded slowly, letting out the deep breath he'd been holding. “Yes, Emperor.”  
“You are a good boy.” Shiro was pushed forward, his hands having to grip at Zarkon's calves as he spanked his ass: hard. Shiro yelped out in pain, but it was good, like when Sendak had a few times. “Thank you, Emperor, please, do it as much as you desire.” Shiro was lifted back up, and twitched when his cock was stroked. “Later you can come over your stomach again for me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so yeah that happened. The author has strangely some issues writing 'sexy' talk because they just find it...hilarious and can't take it serious. Also they are very attached to Shiro and Do Not Want to Harm. They will regardless.
> 
> Shiro, baby, my sweet child. No. No.  
> Ulaz, I'm sorry too. We're going to have a hint of Blades rep next chapter, some more Sharkon, and the torture aspect is going to step up some more.
> 
> Not sure how long it will take to write the next one, as next week I'm working 39 hours and again, my job is physical and makes me very tired. Still haven't looked at other fics yet either. But thank you for reading! Can't wait to hear from you ^^


	38. Indecency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, thank you all for the comments last chapter, and kudos ^^ It was so lovely to hear from you!  
> This was annoying to write, but I managed it!
> 
> Few warnings: aside from VERY BAD usage of bdsm stuff, which will forever continue until we get to a point where Shiro is properly able to consent to stuff 100% we have that in here, there's some pet play (effectively think puppy play but it's obvs distorted and wrong bc aliens and bad dynamics)...and finger nail removal. Mentally Shiro is Bad.
> 
> Shiro gets to spend a lot of time with Zarkon, lil Hepta gets some time in the spotlight (and gets to be GLORIOUS), and KOLIVAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE! HE BACK!!!

“Lemme see,” Hepta pushed Shiro's head back so it bumped against the wall, feeling him prod his metal finger over the new canines. They'd been in for a few quintants' but Hepta had been away from work. “They're pretty sharp-looking! Were they as sharp before?”  
“No.” Shiro pushed him back, moving his jaw. They'd explained to him how they did it; stem cells, samples, something to do with complex names; he didn't fully understand it, but all he knew is now he had really sharp teeth that kept nicking his tongue and the inside of his mouth when he ate.

 

Eating itself was difficult. He'd slowly been able to keep down more, but he was struggling to sleep at night now. He'd be up, just staring or pacing or watching some figure from the corner of his eye. He just didn't feel hungry. Ulaz decided that if he wasn't going to eat, then they would just have to make him take food so he didn't waste away. He still had to go back to the arena at some point, so they used a tube like before when he wasn't eating forever ago. Then Haggar decided she wanted to see what would happen if he was over-fed. Shiro pushed himself from the bed; he'd rather not think about it any more, not remember the stench and the mess.

 

“So what's happening today?” Shiro kept his tone as even as he could be. Hepta paused, shifting uncomfortably. “I think it's overstimulation.”  
“Wow, I'm gonna just _really_ enjoy that, right? Do I get to almost go blind again?”  
“I don't know,” Hepta yawned, “probably not. Ulaz and Haggar are overseeing you.”  
“It's like this day can't get any worse.” Shiro glanced to the open door. If he could activate his arm, he could have a go at escaping. It'd be pointless, but at least it would be annoying.

 

“You and Ulaz confuse me.”  
“Hm?”  
“You seemed more friendly before? What's up?” Hepta folded his arms over his chest and stood at full height.  
“You're trying to mimic Kaleska, aren't you?”  
“S-Shut up! Answer my question, subject!” Shiro's mouth tugged into the smallest of grins as he let himself hunch forward. “It's complicated.”  
“Did you bone? Cause I _swear_ everyone who bones gets like this around each other at some point and it's so _annoying_. You're like if Ladnok and Trugg have an argument, all glaring at each other and you can feel the sexual tension, and smell it, well at least on you because-”  
“Hepta, that's enough. Just drop it.”

 

“I would prefer you not rile the subject up more then it is, Officer Hepta, and keep your nose out business that does not concern you. You're relieved of duty; go home.” Ulaz's look could kill, and Hepta very quickly scooted around the walls as he walked in, before exiting. Ulaz stepped towards him, gaze steady, before stopping a few paces away.

 

“You're so quiet when you move.” Shiro let his head tilt to the side, giving him a once over as he leaned against the wall.  
“I am well-practised.”  
“Implying you've needed a reason to remain non-detected,” Shiro glanced again at his frame, “is it the same reason you don't broadcast your abilities?”  
“I don't need to use them-”  
“You're able to throw me around with as much ease as Sendak,” Shiro started, pushing himself from the wall as he moved towards Ulaz, “you're strong enough you should probably be a soldier more then whatever you do here.”  
“I've served my time. What are you suggesting, _subject_.”  
“I'll let you know when I work it out.”  
“You sound paranoid.”  
“I'm totally not, but you can accuse me all you please.” Shiro offered him a wide smirk, and for a moment Ulaz felt the look was just a bit too much like Sendak's.

 

-

 

Hepta was half-right. What he thought was overstimulation tests ages ago turned out to just be range checks; he was failing to grasp how this was necessary as he fumbled his way around the room, trying to find the exit that Haggar told him was there. It was loud, with noises coming from so many different places and at different decibels which created the worst kind of dissonance in his ears. Then there was the bright colours and strange lights and everything was just so... _busy_ around him. He was trying to dodge out of the way of things bumping into him, and it honestly reminded him of a busy day out in Tokyo then something on Central Command. He dodged another thing; he didn't know what they were because of how quickly everything moved, and tried to make sense of this place. He couldn't, and it was becoming too much.

 

He didn't know where the exit was. He couldn't see anything that stood out. Was he walking in circles? It was crowded – too crowded. This wasn't reality – what was - where was he? He came to an abrupt stop, wrapping his arms around himself to offset the shakes. They didn't stop, his hands were – even the prosthetic. Should it shake? Was it broken? He could feel his heart rate climb and tried to steady it, but he didn't feel he was breathing right. He over-thought. He forgot how to breathe. _Remember and focus, focus on breathing_. He stumbled and slunk down to his knees, fearful murmurs rattling from his lips. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Keith, who moved slowly towards him, face marred with concern. Shiro's eyes widened as he brought his hands up defensively.

 

Haggar and Ulaz watched him curl up in a ball in the empty room. Ulaz was always...terrified at the illusions that Haggar could cast on subjects, because watching them move about was the worst thing when there was nothing there. After this, he had to test the _other_ side of overstimulation, on Haggar's orders, because she was _not_ pleased that they had not only slept together, but also it happened in her labs. He was being docked a phoebs' pay, and denied any time off. She'd screamed at him for an abuse of his position, and was even more annoyed at Sendak for offering him out. That was about the only thing they could agree on; the constant usage was too normalised, and he was aware that it got in the way of Shiro's regular functioning. He would need to see if there was anything in the Earth data banks about negative effects relating to sex.

 

“You will be monitored.”  
“I wouldn't expect anything less,” Ulaz brought his hands from behind his back. “I know that the Commander allowed you, I am just disappointed that you did not bring to light this conflict of interest.” She broke the illusion and looked to Ulaz.  
“If it was a conflict of interest, High Priestess, would you say my behaviour has exhibited that?”  
“No, but it is not if, it is _when_.”  
“You wanted me on this project, and I am excited to engage with it. If you feel I am becoming too close, then please, remove me.” He glanced down at her, and she nodded slowly. “One of the druids will be in with you.”  
“Of course.”

 

The two watched as a pair of guards came in. Shiro backed away across the floor until he was on his feet. They watched him dance around them, body poised to attack. It continued for a few dobosh's until one of the guards managed to get behind him, the other quickly cuffing his hands together. He struggled and thrashed and pulled against their hold, but it was to no avail.  
“He really will be a wonderful weapon once this is complete.”  
“Yes, he will.” Why couldn't Shiro have just complied like normal? He was just making it worse.

 

-

 

Ulaz pulled his hand away, wincing at the teeth marks as he watched the blood surface against the short fur. Shiro glared at him through narrowed eyes, mouth slightly agape but teeth displayed as he growled up at him. “You're not putting me in stirrups.”  
“You're going in them whether you like it or not.”  
“This experiment is _fucking pointless_ and has no use at all!” Ulaz would concede he had no idea why it was added to the list, but it came from Haggar. His only guesses was it was another stamina test, or just something to earn compliance. Perhaps even a punishment for them both for fucking in the labs; he wouldn't put it past her. “It is required, you will comply.”

 

For emphasis, the druid pressed the shock-stick against his side. Shiro yelled out in pain and sunk to the ground. They lifted him with ease by the back of the body suit and placed him on the table. The guards flanked his sides, tying his arms down. He kicked and screamed in rage as his legs were caught in turn and strapped in tightly. He smashed the back of his head against the table, and that was quickly halted with a brace that kept his head still.

 

Ulaz moved to the terminal, ears pricking as the fabric was torn. Shiro swore blindly, firing off threats that he couldn't hope to make reality. He screamed again, Ulaz finally turning. “He's strapped in, you may cause muscle damage.”  
“Of course, Technician.” The druid stared at him as they moved away to the side, pulling the machine closer as Ulaz turned back to the display. He couldn't watch – didn't want to. Hearing it would be enough.

 

“What the _fuck_ are you going to do with that?”  
“You already know the answer, subject. What do you think it does?”  
“Get away! It's too much!”  
“Nothing has happened.”  
“I can't fucking cope with this any more!”  
“You will, otherwise you cannot be weaponised. Do you not want to please us?”  
Ulaz stared at his hands as he waited out the pause, mouthing the “yes,” that Shiro inevitably said in resignation.  
“Just what I thought. You should like this one, it will be very stimulating for you _here_.”  
“You're a bunch of sick fucks, you know that? You fucking hear me? Sick fuckin' bastards!”  
The slap echoed around the room. There was silence for a few dobosh's. “The monitors are in place. Shall I begin?”  
Ulaz swallowed, “yes.” He was disgusting.

 

Shiro's eyes widened as he felt the cold and damp press against his entrance.  
“No.” He could barely hear himself say it as it breached him, to the point he wondered if he'd actually spoken at all. His body trembled as he felt the metal push further in slowly; icy inch by icy inch, until it pressed flush against his prostate. Shiro shuddered in disgust and arousal as he stared at the overhead mirror. His own reflection made him sick, watching this made him sick, and he could see and hear the hydraulic shaft pull back, heralding the metal-headed dildo, or whatever the fuck they'd attached to it, to retreat.  
Until it pushed back into him again.  
Why couldn't they do this when they did the milking test? _It would take too long._  
At least the motor wasn't loud.  
He could feel the tension as his erection pressed against the fabric. The pace was slow, so it rubbed gently, but, the knowledge of what was likely to come was...he bit his lip, pressing down hard to stifle back any noise he desperately wanted to make.

 

Shiro blinked slowly as he watched the reflected reality of his position. A small, cracked squeak escaped his lips as he felt his cock twitch against the fabric.  
The sickest thing about this was that he found himself _enjoying it;_ imagining the Commander overseeing the entire thing.

 

He was so fucked up.

 

From the corner of his eye, Adam shook his head, pushing Keith's face into his chest. _Thank you._

 

-

 

Shiro stripped off the body suit and pushed himself into the corner of the cell. He didn't want to feel anything on him except the cold air against his skin. It felt like there was something scratching and clawing underneath it all; bringing an intense heat along with its sensations. It had been too much; he couldn't move to offset the intense pleasure as the _thing_ moved quicker and faster inside him. He could still _feel_ the heat of it even though it was a varga later, possibly. He'd been crying, begging by the end.

 

Matt touched his hand tentatively. Shiro pulled away. “Please, just leave me alone.”

 

-

 

The Emperor's summons actually put him in a good mood. He wasn't as scared this time. It was naïve of him, but after yester-quintant, he just needed something familiar, and at this point that was sex. He'd be able to feel something – feel good and like he had some level of worth. _The feeling of fullness and heat and warmth_. He'd forever prefer the Commander, but the Emperor, he...there was something particular about it he wasn't sure he understood yet. It didn't matter, the other feelings were more important, like the post-orgasm high. _You've really fucking crashed, huh?_ He didn't deign himself a reply – he already knew the answer – admitted it enough times.

 

He was met by the concubines again, the small one giving him a once over. “Are we going to behave?”  
“Yes,” he offered her a small bow of respect. He was starting to think she carried the most seniority with how she directed the others to strip and bathe him. “You don't have the braid?” She asked, walking beside him.  
“Oh, I left it out.” He'd never re-braided it. He didn't really feel like it lately.  
“That's for the best. The Emperor prefers your hair out like this. He finds the white quite striking. Ah, yes, after your bath, you and I will need to discuss a few things.”  
“Why?” Shiro stopped. She sighed and turned her head, “I need to know how well you can compartmentalise.”

 

-

 

Shiro was walked naked into the Emperor's chambers to be met with the concubine stood in the centre of the room. The guards left him with her, and she motioned him forwards. “Did you think about what I asked you?”  
“I can bury things?”  
“Burying and compartmentalising are two different things.”  
“Kinda then I guess.”  
“That's not an answer I wanted to hear,” she stared at him seriously as she pushed the door open, “because I need you to be able to cope being dehumanised.” Shiro stared at her and then the contents of the room, then back at her again. “A little dehumanisation hasn't stopped me yet.”  
“Have you been treated like an animal?” She glared as he laughed at her. Shiro wiped his eyes and wandered in, jabbing his foot at the cage that sat in the room. “I've been treated worse than an animal. I think this'll be just fine.” He turned as he heard a clatter of things behind him and felt himself swallow. She looked up at him with a neutral expression; “then this is what you will be wearing.”

 

-

 

With all the times he was called a 'good boy', how excitable he was getting around seeing or hearing the Commander's name, his new life with the Galra, and all the petting and time on a leash, Shiro thought it'd be easier to act like a dog because that's the closest thing he felt to right now. He was just hoping he wouldn't have to bark like one; he sucked at impressions. The concubine; he still didn't know her name, had left after she'd prepared him. The Emperor was due back soon. He smoothed the short fur of the tail; it was almost black and like a Tosa's tail. Outside of some knee pads, fingerless gloves, and...he wasn't really sure what was going on with his feet. The toes were visible along with the heel, but the rest of it was zipped up tightly just under the knee. It was impractical, like the muzzle. He really did feel like a Tosa.

 

His body was curved around inside the cage, and he found himself with his legs pulled in and his head down on crossed hands. It wasn't a high-roofed cage, either, and he'd got bored quickly of strumming his fingers over the metal. Shiro lifted his head, eyes alert and forward as he heard heavy footfalls and then the Emperor came into view. He moved to push himself up, knocking his head against the top and growling out in frustration as he leaned down to paw at himself.

 

“Stay.”  
Shiro settled, watching intently as Zarkon opened the door and clicked his fingers. He rose on hands and knees and moved forward, keeping his head level in front of him. He'd not be so pathetically submissive for the Emperor. Zarkon's palm halted him, and he felt him lean down and fixed a thick chain to his collar. “You will be spending most of the quintant at my heel, Champion.” Shiro wasn't expecting that but remained silent as he felt Zarkon pull him forwards, quickly moving and appreciating the pads. He was going to struggle to keep up with Zarkon as the gap started to widen. “You will eat, drink and rest when I allow. If you have the urge to urinate or defecate then make a pathetic whine.” Shiro swallowed but nodded his head. That was incorrect, and he whined out in pain when the leash was yanked tightly. “Like that.” Zarkon growled.

 

-

 

_As much as they had discussed it, Shiro was still unsure he had made the correct choice agreeing to come to the event. He might as well be attached to Adam's hip at this point. They'd booked leave together so Shiro could come out and meet Adam's parents in Los Angeles, and he was going to show him around a few places. This was another reason they'd booked leave, because Adam had been really curious about going to one of these events and now he was old enough, he'd got tickets to attend. Shiro pressed himself closer to his boyfriend when a group of people in thigh-high boots, horse-looking tails and large plumes coming from their masks moved past them, pulling little carriages behind them._

 

“ _We can go get some food if you want? Or are you in pain?”_

“ _Just a bit nervous. I mean, I've seen things, obviously, just you know, porn.” Shiro gave Adam a quick kiss on the cheek, more to settle his own nerves at this point. He'd engaged in kinbaku before and he'd shown Adam a bit too, but outside of really light bondage and some rough sex, they'd tried some role plays that usually didn't last long. He didn't even know if that counted as kink. He was always too busy thinking about getting to space that he never really...bothered. He wasn't sure if that was normal considering what some of his friends had told him. He told himself it was okay to go at his own pace and that being forced wasn't alright; that was how it was meant to be._

 

“ _Hey, hey it's alright. I didn't ask too much, did I?”_  
“ _No, no, it's just,” he paused. Home was still a fair bit behind compared to America, which itself was behind compared to some places in Europe from what he understood from a friend online, “I just need to get used to it, that's all.” He offered Adam a warm smile, and accepted a very sweet kiss in return. “I'm gonna have to marry you some day, Officer Shirogane.”_  
“ _Adam!” Shiro hushed him playfully. He needed to laugh right now as he watched a woman walk someone on a leash. He cocked his head to the side, Adam giving him a soft chuckle. “You or me?”_  
“ _Oh my god, Adam!”_  
“ _No, I'm serious!” He snaked an arm around Shiro's waist, brushing their noses against each other and making Shiro incredibly flustered. “Well, Officer Shirogane?”_  
“ _For that, you!”  
_“ _Well,” Adam pulled away, lacing his fingers between Shiro's, “let's go take a look, huh?” Shiro caved, but offered him a loving smile all the same. He could be a pain in the ass, but he was happy Adam was his._

 

Shiro blinked out of his memory. He was sat on his haunches at the feet of the Emperor watching different Commanders or advisors appear before them. He didn't mind just being sat here. He'd probably get bored, sure, but just with everything lately this felt nice. All he had to do was play pretend, and it wasn't exactly like he hadn't when he got here. He was wary of newcomers, but Zarkon would lax the tight hold he kept to let Shiro know they were no threat. If it was a Commander that Shiro recognised, like when Ladnok appeared, he settled himself more comfortably. If only because she lived opposite Sendak, he 'knew' her the best out of the remaining members of High Command.

 

She'd looked down at him and held her gaze for a longer moment than necessary, but relayed a report to Zarkon regarding a new planet that was rich in materials. The problem was that it was quite far into rebel territory. Zarkon had responded that they would discuss this with Gnov and Sendak in due course, due to the cannon's whereabouts being a mystery again. Apparently 'later' was still going ahead, whatever that meant.

 

Zarkon gave the chain a sharp tug and Champion picked himself up from the floor, crawling over towards him before returning to his haunches. He kept his head down as Zarkon ran a hand through the long hair, teasing the strands. “You have been very obedient and quiet, even vigilant around me.” He patted his lap and Champion raised his hands, placing them tentatively on each thigh. “I will reward you for such good behaviour,” with that, he unfastened the front of his armour and guided Champion closer, and with his free hand, he undone the muzzle. He dropped it to the side and held his cock in place for Champion to lick at.

 

Zarkon let out a low rumble in his throat as he watched Champion's back arch. He busied his tongue, applying pressure then licking and lapping thoroughly. Zarkon pressed his hand into the thick hair, rubbing the scalp and forehead firmly as he pushed him down; the saliva Champion had left over made the experience more enjoyable. “Use your teeth.” He muttered, his cock tensing as sharp points pressed a tick or two later. It was certainly an improvement over the human teeth.

 

Champion seemed very much at ease beneath him, perhaps more confident, which was a slight surprise considering how submissive he had been the previous time a few quintants' ago. Zarkon absently watched the tail move from side to side, letting out a small chuckle. “You act like a good _kragna_. A loyal and obedient creature that was native to Diabazaal.” Champion let out a small growl around his cock as he worked himself further down its length. “They were fine creatures bred for fighting, originally tamed from wild beasts, much like yourself. Perhaps that is what I shall call you; _kragna.”_ Zarkon wouldn't get a response, because that was not part of the rules. Champion simply whined in appreciation and continued pleasing Zarkon. Yes, _kragna_ was apt for the beast between his legs.

 

-

 

Eventually Shiro found himself sat at Zarkon's heel around a table. He was in discussion with Commander Prorok about fleet movements. Shiro wasn't allowed to eat yet, but whatever was above him smelt good; it made his mouth water. He heard his stomach growl and flattened himself to the floor as Zarkon glanced down at him, before carrying on the conversation.

 

“ _Kragna_.” Shiro looked up to the piece of meat that hung in his fingers. He swallowed and brought his gaze to Zarkon as he cautiously moved forward, fingers brushing the cold metal floor. “Submit.” Shiro wasn't exactly sure what that meant, and his default was to lay upon his back, curving his body round as he opened his legs, then raised and bent his arms over his chest, trying his best to remember what a happy dog looked like. He let his head roll to the side, exposing his neck, albeit protected thanks to the collar. He was aware that Prorok was watching with curiosity. It must be weird, seeing him like this compared to the arena. Then again, most of the Empire had seen him fucked in the sand so what did it really matter any more if he rolled on his back and whined like a dog, or _kragna_?

 

“Good boy. Sit, and take it gently.” Shiro rolled over and hoisted himself back up. He inched forward and very delicately hooked it between his teeth. Zarkon patted his head again and turned his attention back to Prorok. Shiro made a satisfied whine and settled himself again. It was good, whatever it was he just ate.

 

-

 

He was unable to keep up with Zarkon's strides, and by the time they got to the bridge of Central Command, which was ridiculous in size, Shiro was panting and checking his body as best he could for what marks he had. The skin over his left arm was a bit torn, but he hoped it was just that. The proceeding chatter above him was Zarkon reeling off co-ordinates and issuing orders to the officers around him. Shiro found himself looking up at him in wonder; then blinked himself back. What was he thinking? He'd ripped out his teeth.

 

 _Then again_.

 

Perhaps this was what Sendak loved so much about the Emperor. He was efficient. No wasted breath or actions, calm under pressure, direct and assertive, and he guessed for a Galra, the strongest of the lot. There was no weakness, nothing that could possibly injure him. Deadly and precise – a force of nature.

 

“What is is, _kragna_?” Shiro went to speak but brought himself back quickly. Instead, he pressed his face against his boot. He felt Zarkon shift, then a hand reach down to play with his hair. “Brace yourself, we are to move soon.” Shiro did his best to ground his body as he watched the fleet in front of them move, before vanishing. He blinked, sitting up straighter, when suddenly the lights changed on the bridge and an automated message warned they were about to preform a hyper-jump. _Central Command can...move?_ He watched in wonder as over the course of ticks, the rings and planets were left behind and space distorted around them, and then it stopped. He audibly gasped as he looked down at a green and yellow planet below them, a blue star burning in the distance. He wanted to rise, move and look at what he was seeing. It was beautiful; what he used to dream about.

 

“Tell Haggar we are nearing position for her to trial the Komar.”  
“Understood, Sire.”  
Shiro bolted around and snarled through the muzzle up at the druid, eyes narrowed. He didn't know when it got here – he hadn't seen or heard it, but he didn't like it. He couldn't tell them apart, but it sounded like the one with the stick. Shiro yelped out as he dropped to the floor, clutching at his collar that had sent shocks rippling through his body. He caught Zarkon's glare and he realised he'd broken the rule around no snarling. Growling and whining were fine, just not that. Then he realised where his hands were. That was two. Zarkon motioned a member of the Royal Guard over and ordered Shiro be returned to his quarters, then turned to him, “animals that misbehave are _punished_.”

 

-

 

Shiro howled out in pain as his last fingernail was torn from his hand. Like the others, Zarkon added it to a tiny container, then took his hand and with a knife, pressed it into his fingertips.  
It burned.  
The blood.  
He wasn't squeamish but...but _no_.  
Zarkon grabbed his ankle and he felt him reach for his toes. Another sharp howl was ripped from his throat as Zarkon ripped his toenail out. “After this, you are mine to play with.” Shiro whined as he tugged at the tail.

 

-

 

The guard placed Shiro on the table and Hepta didn't know what to do. Ulaz was off-site securing some drugs or something for a test they needed to do, and went before they moved for the Komar test, and Haggar was busy with the Emperor. _Come on, Hepta, what would Ulaz do, aside from look pissed off? Ah, yeah, clean the wounds. That has to happen first._ Hepta dashed away, pulling out everything until he found what he needed. _Notes, I gotta make notes and make sure he's not allergic. That's in his notes._ He needed another Technician here or someone with medical experience. At best this was all guesswork on his part.

 

He cleaned the slashed up hand and feet and bandaged Shiro up as best he could. Then he fished out the medical quintessence and injected it into his palm and soles of his feet. He threw them in the sharps bin and repositioned his body to make sure he didn't get a neck cramp. He had that once and hated it. Anyway, Kaleska didn't raise an asshole, that's what she always said to him. He winced at the whip marks over his abdomen. He should probably try to soothe those as well. That'd be painful when he woke up. He wasn't sure if the gel would work, but grabbed it, smearing the stuff into his skin. There was a lot of skin on show, and Hepta could finally just look at the little trail of hair that led from the tiny hole in his stomach down to _that_ place. He quickly averted his eyes before glancing back again. It looked soft and he was just curious.

 

“Officer Hepta, what do you think you're doing?” Hepta whirled around as one of the druids entered and he snapped to attention. “I'm sorry, sir, I was just...having a curious moment, sir!” He watched the druid come to a stop and glance over the body, which remained unconscious. It glanced and lifted the foot, peeling back the bandages. “Did the Emperor-”  
“He came back with these.” Hepta handed the small container to the druid, who nodded slowly. “We can sort this out like we did the teeth. I will see to this.” They glanced over the body again. “You applied in excess, but your attempt was adequate. I will let the High Priestess know. The wastage will be deducted from your salary, I may add.” Hepta offered a quick bow and left the room, he'd go make some notes and update the system. He pulled out his communicator, quickly sending a message to Ulaz. He should probably know.

 

They totally fucked at least once, and damn was he going to confirm that.

 

-

 

Ulaz paced along the winding walkways of the underground city, his bag full of what he needed for further experimentation. He had easily convinced Haggar to test these on him, because she went to the extreme in the need to test everything under her watch. All he had to do was feed ideas and offer to procure them himself. With the stress of the Komar trials, which according to Thace didn't work, she would be tied up with Zarkon for a while. He was grateful for this reprieve.

 

He settled in a small spot outside a niche shop that dabbled in old texts, according to the signage. He might have to take a look later. It was pleasant they had a bit of seating outside.

 

“Anything I can get you, sir?” The shop keeper, a small female Galra who looked to be part Puigian as well, poked her head out the side of the door. “I don't get many folk come to my little book store.” She tilted her head at him, “so what brings you here?”

 

Ulaz leaned back in the seat, lacing his fingers together as he offered a small smile. “Business, sadly. However, as I was looking for somewhere to collect my thoughts, I noticed your quaint store. I'll have a peruse later, if you don't mind?”  
“All custom is welcome,” she gave him a wider one back, “is there anything you enjoy reading? I could perhaps bring you a book out, maybe a drink?”  
“That's awfully kind of you, what would be the cost?”  
“A good conversation usually covers the cost.” She moved from the door frame and sat in the chair opposite, leaning forward. Ulaz tilted his head and brought his elbows to the table, mimicking her body language.

 

“How do you keep your store running?”  
“I do odd jobs here and there,” she grinned at him, “perhaps you'd like to come inside and look at the drinks menu?”  
“I should,” Ulaz rose and followed her as she continued talking, “see, without conversation you can't learn. Without learning, you cannot gain knowledge, and without knowledge? Well, life is meaningless. I mean, I own a book store of all things, but it needs to be protected, right? You never know who will try and censor you.” She watched him from over her shoulder. “You seem to be quite an eccentric shop owner.” Ulaz brought his right hand to his hip.

 

“You're as fast as ever,” she chuckled, eyes looking at the blade primed under her chin.  
“You've certainly improved.” He gently pushed her blade away with his free hand, and dusted himself down. “It's good to see you, sister.”  
“The same to you, brother,” she threw her arms around his waist, the little horns pressing into his chest. She pulled away and poured Ulaz a small glass of red juice. “For later,” she passed it to him and he nodded as she motioned towards a bookcase. He moved over towards it, and pausing for a moment, pulled out a few books. He heard a chuckle behind him, and entered the room.

 

Kolivan and Antok rose, blades primed, before relaxing. “This is dangerous.”  
“I know.”  
“What did you need to see me so desperately about?” Kolivan took the data chips and gave them to Antok. Ulaz took a deep breath and rubbed his brow. “You received my private updates, yes?”  
“If you're about to tell me you've made the damn slave preg-”  
“No - where did you even get that from?”  
“Because it's happened recently, and I'm just frustrated with you for being such an idiot. What's happening?” Kolivan pushed the braid around his neck and Ulaz leaned back in his seat.

 

“They're weaponising him. He has a small particle cannon that's currently offline built into the arm. I'm back in the labs, again, as lead Technician. I want to request withdrawing him.”  
“You're stuck on Central Command?”  
“Yes.”  
“Right now it's too dangerous. I need more information then what you've given me. Explain everything.” Kolivan leaned forward and Ulaz smoothed his hand through his mohawk, before he started with everything major since him and Shiro had the first moment of intimacy. From the increasing strength through quintessence to Sendak's conditioning, and the recent addition of Shiro now under Haggar and Zarkon's 'care'.

 

Kolivan sat stony-faced, staring at the tea in front of him. He could understand Ulaz's concerns, because reconditioning had claimed a few of their own. _However_ , this 'Shiro' was not Galran, and he could not bring a non-Galran into the Blades because their swords would not react. From what he had observed from the broadcasts of the arena matches, the human had stamina. His body was soft, but he was strong and resilient, stubborn by the looks of it too. The biggest issue Kolivan had was that he was a liability, and Ulaz did agree that _if_ he was taken in, they'd have to spend a lot of him undoing the damage and then rebuilding him again. That would then make them as bad as what they were trying to undo.

 

Then there was factoring in what would happen if they took him. Not only was he Sendak's personal slave, but Haggar had her claws in now. Pissing off _both_ of them and stealing from under Zarkon's nose would have his people being more rigorously rooted out, and he couldn't afford the collapse of the Blades. He couldn't issue a mass order to abandon their placements, because all the work they'd have done would be for naught and every single one of them would have bounties. There was already issues with the rebels over the death of one of his own still, so keeping that alliance steady was hard, because they 'hadn't protected Nadiva' like they said. Well, like Krolia had said she would do.

 

“We don't have many options. We can't send him back to Earth because that would lead the Galra out to the Blue Lion, which we want to protect, but we also cannot keep him because he's a liability.”  
“What if I,” Ulaz chewed his lip, “took complete responsibility for him?”  
“You would be his handler?”  
“If I can get him on his feet, we can see if he can be any...use,” Kolivan could see he was struggling. “Are you trying to ask me that if he can be unconditioned and he tempers back that destructive nature, we would keep him on?”  
“Yes, Kolivan.” Ulaz offered the hint of a smile.  
“Purely in relation to the tactical usage of the arm and his capabilities, of course,” Kolivan kept his gaze steady at Ulaz as he lifted his mug, “if he is too unstable, then we will have to let him go – somewhere safe, of course.”  
“As it is our job to _help_ free those of the Empire.”  
“Yes, it is.” They sat in silence for a long while, Kolivan thinking through what he had to do, where would be best to send them.

 

There were some things coming up soon, and they'd heard from Ozar that the Galra had been seen inspecting Krish'alla – a planet rich in minerals and materials for making battle cruisers. They were pulling back there for a while, along with the cannon for repairs. Slav was also there and thankfully out of his fur. He was a genius, but so draining.

 

“I am going to give you this burner communicator.” Kolivan finally muttered as he placed it in front of Ulaz. “I am the only one who can contact you on this. You cannot contact anyone else and it will wipe itself after it is used. No matter what, answer when it rings, because I will only be able to relay you the orders once directly. They will be as usual, but you will be given new reference materials. One I know is quite dear to you.”  
“Are you suggesting-”  
“At present I am suggesting nothing. I want to speak to him myself and make my own decision. I respect you, but you are too compromised, Ulaz. If you weren't the only one capable of doing this assignment, know I would remove you effective immediately.” Kolivan rose and offered out his arm.

 

Ulaz took the forearm and they pulled each other in close. “Don't be reckless, brother.”  
“I will do my best. It is...hard to manage at times.”  
“So much as I disagree with it, Thace has been good to you?” Ulaz's gaze softened as he nodded, a small smile on his face. “I am...grateful for him. He keeps me going when I don't think I can.”  
“When this is over,” Kolivan put his hand on his shoulder, “perhaps you two could go on a mission together.” The way he said he made it sound like it would not, in fact, be a mission. “So long as it is just a two-man mission, I think it will be perfect.”  
“Take care, brother,” Kolivan released him and made to move to a trap door, he offered a small wave as he dropped down, and Antok quickly said his goodbye, before following.

 

Ulaz shut the door and looked down at the liquid. It was another memory distortion concoction, but before he would do anything, he pulled out his regular communicator to make a note in the usual code. He walked through the door and found himself in a tiny kitchen, following the hall round until he was back in the store.

 

“Although you never mentioned what you read,” the Blade looked up at him with a cocky grin, “I think you might find this book here quite fascinating. It focuses upon the old mother goddesses; Unnur and Lilja.” She handed him the book and Ulaz smiled, pulling his bag round and undoing the top. He watched her peek at the contents, then brought her eyes up cautiously. “Assassination?”  
“Sadly, no.”  
“Then what?”  
“Experimentation.” He ran his finger along the spine of the book absently; he could do with some forgiveness right now. He felt a hand place itself against his. “We all have our parts to play, brother, but remember; this isn't you, you're kind and considerate and I'm sad we never had much time to chat.”  
“I just wish things weren't as they are.”  
“We're gonna manage, alright? We can do it!” She raised a clenched fist, and Ulaz gave her a small lick on the forehead. “You are always very optimistic, thank you, Narja.” He pressed his communicator against the pad, paying for the book. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

 

As Ulaz walked back out of the shop, the signal returned. He glanced at it, puzzled why Hepta would message him. He brought it to his ear.

 

“What is it, Officer Hepta?”  
“Oh, hi, sir. There was a...not emergency, but the subject came back from the Emperor in a bad shape.” Ulaz's stomach dropped.  
“Explain.”  
“I mean one of the druids is sorting it now but-”  
“Officer Hepta! Answer the question!”  
“Alright, don't _shout_ at me, jeez! The Emperor ripped his nails out, which is kinda gross, and slashed up his finger tips and feet and I just didn't know what to do? I had a go but it's all fine now. I was just hoping to talk to you to get an idea, well, also let you know earlier.”  
“How is Shiro now?”  
“Well, _Shiro_ is having his nails regrown and he's under, thankfully.”  
“That's good, I'll have to check him in the morning.”  
“Permission to speak?”  
“Why not?”  
“If you haven't boned, can you just hurry up and do it? Like I can smell the sexual tension, okay, and I just don't _want_ that at work-” Ulaz glared into the middle distance as he cut the call.

 

He realised he hadn't had the drink, and quickly back-tracked in and downed it in one go. Narja cocked an eyebrow, and he offered a grim look. “Work is bad.”  
“Better to forget?”  
“There's more I want to.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these Blades and how much I fucking love them (and then torture Ulaz a lot I'm so sorry my purple batman). That conversation also went differently then originally planned. Originally it was very much 'Shiro is going back to earth', but it's all changed now.
> 
> As said I was doing a lot of research for the puppy play thing, and was also very specific about the dog breed Shiro references from what I read about it's temperament (also the Tosa is supposedly considered in high regard, and I think that back on Earth how highly he's considered and just ugh). All I was researching was what dog tail I wanted to give him and it's like...let's multi-layer this bitch up. This is what i do for fun, folks. /end my suffering. Expect another instance because Zarkon is not a quitter (and I'm not either). I also got a fucking machine worked in to this so I am pleased.
> 
> Writing all the morally grey is difficult at times because it's trying to strike a balance. I hope it's coming across okay?  
> Next chapter returns to torture. This had less then I expected, but I'm at nearing the end of the passive...ish ones. 
> 
> Thank you! Can't wait to hear from you guys!


	39. Overexposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while because it was genuinely hard to write in places. In others I couldn't find enough suitable articles or information that I felt I could realistically make a decent crack at it. Also a scene later on took four rewrites and I'm still not sure if it was the best option.
> 
> My only warning is that it's heavy, miserable and bleak, honestly. Please take breaks if it's too much, we are very much in to the medical torture now. I'll likely write a bit more of Chapter 4 of In Your Gravity soon because ouch.
> 
> Thank you all once again for your comments and kudos, they have been appreciated ^^ I hope you can enjoy this, even if it is miserable as fuck.

“Don't cut too deeply.”  
“Oh, sorry, I didn't realise.”  
Shiro cracked an eye open and watched as Hepta withdrew the scalpel. Another inch by inch square of skin. He couldn't feel it; he never could when they took samples like these, but he wished – prayed - they'd just put him under. His eyes drifted to the mirror above, the light almost blinding him. Little bloody squares littered his upper body. They hadn't started on anything lower than his hips. Yet.

 

“When will this be over?”  
Ulaz glanced to Shiro, his gaze steely but face impassive. His eyes twitched as he turned away. “When the High Priestess deems it so. Don't watch.”  
“Doesn't matter if I do or don't.” Shiro muttered, wrinkling his nose. “Natural or quintessence?”  
“Natural.”  
“Great.” Shiro laughed behind him, another twisted one. He'd done the same when they'd tested how much heat and cold his body could withstand. That experiment was intense purely from monitoring his vitals. It was worse when he had to test rapid change.

 

-

 

“We will remove the vestigial body parts. It will help yield extra biological matter.” Haggar muttered as she moved away from the table. Ulaz caught a quick glance of the body; skin a dull grey in colour. She'd been preserving him, then. “Did the other one...?”  
“No. That one is off-site undergoing testing. It's body was hardier then we expected, so it survived - just.”  
“I see. Back to the subject, to what extent are we removing vestigial parts? There are some that seem-”  
“Anything you identified as vestigial will be removed,” Haggar pointedly turned to him, “is there a problem with this?”  
“No, my apologies, High Priestess.” Ulaz lowered his head and Haggar sniffed as she turned away. “You will be aided by another technician and one of the druids. Considering the locations of some of the vestigial parts, you will sedate him fully.”  
“Thank you for your time and wisdom, High Priestess. Vrepit Sa.” She didn't return it as he left, feeling the fur on the back of his neck stand on end. This was the first of few major experiments; ones he'd rather not be undertaking. The only solace was that Shiro would be under, but it was the concerns of what could happen _after_.

 

Thace had changed his shift pattern specifically so they lined up with his. Ulaz was grateful he had, because he was starting to wonder whether it would be easier to just let himself bleed out, not message Thace at all. He pressed his back against the elevator as it went up, hoping that Shiro would be more compliant for his own sake. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his tired eyes. He'd barely been sleeping; and when he had, the nightmares were full of contorted corpses and petrified prisoners. If it ever came to the Empire being held to account, he would turn himself in without hesitation for the crimes he had committed; commanded to or not, he was complicit, and there was no escaping that fact. Shiro was right about them all being monsters.

 

-

 

“Sedate him!” Ulaz barked as he and two of the guards held Shiro to the ground. Hepta blinked and quickly leaned in, pressing the needle just under the collar. In a few ticks, he watched Shiro's body go limp. Hepta moved away quickly as the guards lifted him easily between them. He let his eyes follow them, perturbed by how _small_ Shiro looked. He'd not noticed how little Shiro really was compared to him and the others. He wondered, though he shouldn't, how he could walk between Commander Sendak or the Emperor. He knew; of course he did, what else Shiro had to do, but it was just...he was very small, and that confused him, much like how most of this was necessary.

 

“Officer Hepta, you can go home.”  
“Ah, yeah. What...what tests are you doing today?”  
“It is more like an operation of sorts. We are removing non-essential components.”  
“Ah okay,” Hepta moved towards the cell door. “Can I ask you something?” He turned back to Ulaz, who in his quiet way, had come up far too close behind him. Ulaz tilted his head but nodded. “Do you think he's going to be okay after all this?”  
“Define 'okay'.”  
“I don't know. I guess I'm not a prisoner or a slave, but the thought of this happening to me makes me fur stand on end and makes my palms sweaty. Twitchy too. Won't Commander Sendak be angry as well if he keeps acting out like this?” Hepta struggled to read Ulaz at the best of times, and it was no different now. “The Commander has had him for long enough, so he should be aware of what the subject can and cannot take. If he got angry,” Hepta did notice the small twitch of his lips, “then that would be a miscalculation on his part.”  
“I guess so.”

 

-

 

“You don't need to cut through the side of the mouth to remove the teeth.”  
“It's easier then prising them out. It's too small to manoeuvre in.”  
“Then use the precision tools.” Ulaz glared up at the other technician as he eased out the appendix, as the humans referred to it. He passed it to the druid, who placed it in a metal container. “Well, I will work as I please. I doubt it matters – it has the quintessence feed attached and it's not like we don't know what we're doing.” They glanced at Ulaz, then back to Shiro's mouth as they drew the incision. Ulaz watched the blood trickle down his face as the technician drew more bloody lines, creating a hole as they took the pliers.

 

-

 

_He lay spread-eagle upon the cold metal floor of the cell, the imposing and heavy obsidian darkness above bared down upon him, creating claustrophobic and suffocating conditions. He felt that if he could move, something would descend down from the darkness to tear his body to shreds, and he was powerless to overcome or stop it. He may be the Champion as they called him, but locked within the gilded cage of his mind, he was a prisoner of his own torturous and infernal machinations, and at the mercy of himself._

 

_Perhaps it wasn't so different to what he lived outside of this hellish dreamscape._

 

_Shiro blinked when he felt something wet and warm splash against his cheek. He'd wipe his face to check it, but with no light, what was the point. He felt further drops that turned into a drizzle which slowly intensified until his entire body was coated in whatever was leaving him soaked to the skin. It couldn't be rain, unless his mind had got to the point where it felt it might as well degrade him further by soaking him in piss. It's not like it hadn't happened already by this point. It's not like he'd been forced to drink it down either._

 

_There was a crash and a crack around him. Then another, and another, and another. It kept going until the darkness was abruptly shattered by a blinding violet light that exposed Shiro to the bodies that lay in twisted and shattered heaps around him. He had energy, he could push himself up. He realised when he saw his hands what had been falling; blood. A rainbow of colourful smears and droplets covered his body and he registered he was bathed within the blood of the deceased around him. There were many; perhaps not as many as there could be, but enough to remind him he'd murdered most of them in cold blood that had long ago become bloodthirsty and malignant._

 

_The worst part was that he revelled in it all. It was thrilling to feel every single mental shackle that bound him outside of the arena snap. He felt alive by it because it was the closest he had to free will. He could use his hands or a weapon, he had choices on how he wished to finish his prey and he could take all the time in the universe if he chose to draw it out, because the howls of the crowds would call for more blood and suffering. He needed more then the meek and the weak to fight; he needed a challenge like the title match. Recent developments had only exacerbated his desires that in turn fuelled fantastical dreams of unhinged slaughter, hollowed chest cavities, and the Commander taking him upon the sands blood-soaked and exhausted._

 

_But now there was nothing to fight, and he felt his body drop until it too struck the ground with a sickening crunch. A beast he'd seen before – the one that had killed Banlu – appeared, and he watched from above as his corpse had its throat ripped out, claws shredding his skin more then the Commander ever could. Shiro wondered whether he should find this more distressing, but he'd embraced this victory or death mantra, so in retrospect he shouldn't care if he died or not. At least that body didn't have to suffer any longer._

 

_He felt betrayed by his mind for dredging these thoughts he'd rather not address to the surface. They should remain buried in the darkest depths; where it belonged. He didn't want to see himself this way – some part of him refused to accept it._

 

_The world around him cracked and splintered, and Shiro found himself a ghostly spectre of a memory he would rather forget._

 

“ _So where did you wind up last night and most of today?” Shiro glanced over to Adam, who was sat rigidly. Shiro turned away, pulling up his jacket. The temperature in the room felt like it had plummeted. “I had to do some thinking.”  
_ “ _Which meant you couldn't tell me where you went?” Adam's tone was laced with hurt, and Shiro just couldn't look at him, let alone answer. “Takashi, where did you go?”  
_ “ _I went off-site. I needed space and as I said, time to think-”  
_ “ _You're a terrible liar! Why can't you be honest with me?” Adam rose, fists clenched tight as he moved towards him, stopping a few paces away. “Stop pushing me away. I love you, care about you, but I can't keep doing this.”_

 

“ _You made it clear last night that you don't care. You effectively told me to choose you or my dreams.”  
_ “ _It wasn't your dreams – I know how much doing the mission matters to you – but you aren't well enough to go, Takashi. I can't spend the next...nine months or something waiting for you to come back, and then finding you're worse because you pushed yourself to the brink, again. I can't keep seeing you in a hospital bed because you ignore everyone around you just to keep chasing things you can't do any more-” Shiro could see his mind catch up with the words that'd just left his mouth. “I didn't mean i-”  
_ “ _You've said enough,” Shiro glared at him. Adam went to open his mouth, but closed it again._

 

_He turned on his heel and headed to the bedroom. Shiro left him to his own devices, the tenseness and pain in his chest threatening to blossom into something angrier if Adam said anything else equally out of line. He rubbed at his neck as he leaned against the sink. He still felt groggy from drinking. He'd wound up in a few different bars, and the drunker he got, the more receptive he'd found himself to the flirting. He was treated like a person rather then a patient. He may have allowed some guy to get too personal with him._

 

“ _I think we need a break.”  
_ _Shiro turned to Adam as he heard a bag hit the table. “Yeah, if you want.”  
_ “ _Is that all you have to say? What do you want?”  
_ “ _What is there to really say any more? It's been said a thousand times over.”  
_ “ _So what do you want? Answer the question.” The bitter edge to his voice made Shiro clench the counter top until his knuckles turned white. “I want someone who's supportive.”  
_ “ _Supportive?” Adam repeated. “I'm sorry but how exactly have I been unsupportive?”  
_ “ _You've been a dick about Kerberos, about other missions and things I've wanted to do.”  
_ “ _Because you're being reckless, Takashi! What if you-”  
_ “ _It's my life! You don't get to dictate to me what I can and can't do – how I choose to lead it.” He pushed himself from the counter towards Adam, leaning in close. “So take a break, leave, I don't care enough if all you're going to do is treat me like I'm incapable. You said you wouldn't be here when I came back, so it sounds like you've already made up your mind.”_

 

 _Adam's gaze drifted down his neck and stopped. He scowled at Shiro before a sharp smack struck him across the side of the face. “Do what you fucking want, Takashi. I don't give a shit what stupid mistakes you make any more. I'm done, whatever. Keith can deal with you,” Shiro didn't hear what he muttered, but at a guess it was derogatory. “Leave him out of this.”  
_ “ _Oh fuck off. The amount of times you fucking cancelled dates because the brat got in trouble – his own fucking doing-” Shiro smacked Adam back for that comment. “Just get out.” Shiro shouted, eyes wild. Adam cast him a dark look and grabbed the bag before storming out of the door._

 

_Shiro watched himself break down in tears on the sofa. In hindsight, he was being a selfish prick; but hindsight was a beautiful, if not annoying, gift. He knew that later on he would get the wine out, smash the glass out of rage, and then drink another bottle before passing out on the sofa. The next morning he'd have three missed calls from Adam, stupid memes from Matt, and a message from Keith saying he was stuck on a bit of the homework and if Shiro was free to help him._

 

_The room fizzled away around him and the ground vanished beneath his feet. Instead of falling, he floated in the abyss again. It was like he imagined deep space to be, minus any source of starlight. He felt numb and cold, and from above him, a thick fuzzy towel was dumped on his head. Shiro pulled it over his head, staring at it but wrapping himself within it all the same. He felt better, a little._

 

“ _I will allow you this weakness.”_

 

-

 

He didn't want to be in the morgue with Shiro's body any longer then was necessary. He placed him on the cold table and took the shower head. His body had been stitched back together, but parts of him was still caked in blood. While he was still under, Ulaz could clean him off and disinfect the body. He'd also try and fix the choppily cut and shaved hair. His eyes lingered over the stitches behind his ears, then drifted to his face.

 

Shiro looked like a mess and it wasn't even the worst he was going to look.

 

He swiped at his aching eyes, feeling the hot prickle in the corners sting and burn until he found himself crying as he gently hosed the blood from his body. “I'm so sorry.” He choked out, rubbing small circles into Shiro's shoulder as he quietly sobbed, hands shaking to the point he was catching himself with the water.

 

-

 

“We had to add the muscles and tendons attached to the tail bone to the rest of the spinal cord.”  
“Do you imagine it will have an effect?”  
“I honestly couldn't say.” Ulaz moved for the door, his eyes catching something like the Emperor's eyes from the corner of his vision. He turned his head, peering into the darkness.  
“What's that?”  
“My experiment.” He could hear the grin in her voice, and Ulaz turned away. He hated the deep lab; loathed the monsters that lurked within the confines of cages, but wished all the same he could be here when Shiro was deemed ready for augmentation.

 

-

 

“He has been much better around visitors and remembered his place, haven't you, _kragna_?”  
Sendak watched Champion make a small whine as he glanced upwards, before letting his eyes close again as his focus returned to riding the Emperor. “He seems to be enjoying himself,” Sendak leaned back in his seat, observing Champion's expression shift. This was particular to when he was in pain, but realising it was not as bad as he believed it to be. It may be pain, on closer inspection, based upon the fresh scars he carried over his front.

 

“You are unimpressed?”  
“Only by the scarring, Sire.”  
“I see. _Kragna_ , show the Commander your new teeth.” Sendak's ears pricked as he sat up and leaned forward, tilting his head as Champion's leash was yanked down, and Zarkon prised his mouth open. “They are better now.”  
“They look it. I think I will enjoy myself when I see him next.” He chuckled at the Emperor's dark laughter.  
“That should be soon.”  
“Yes. I have a slave on board and a gift for the Druids.”  
“Oh, and what would that be?” Zarkon tugged the chain back so hard that Champion whimpered out in pain. Sendak could feel the heat pool in his gut as he watched Champion's head roll to the side, his pale skin flushed darker across his nose and cheeks as his chest heaved. “A Marmora agent.” Sendak grinned, eyes flicking to Champion's form as Zarkon spread his legs out over the sides of the chair. “Good. You hear that, _kragna_? You will have something to kill soon.” Champion merely ground himself further down on Zarkon's length, a long moan pulled from his core.

 

He would have to reign his lust back for now. When he returned, he would enjoy Champion and his sweet noises himself. For now, he had his frustrations to vent between Haxus and this dreck aboard his ship. Even half-Galra received better treatment then what the Empire would owe a treasonous wretch like the Blades.

 

-

 

Shiro was laid on his stomach, conscious but unable to feel what they were doing along his back. He hadn't been with it now for a few quintants, and the only thing he remembered was his time with the Emperor. He felt exhausted and carried a deep pain unlike one he could put into words. The on-and-off feeling Shiro had that something was missing was back again, just considerably worse then before, like it wasn't just his arm missing or parts of his sanity and memory – it felt physical.

 

“W-What're you even doing back there?” Shiro said through gritted teeth. He heard the rustle of fabric as the witch bent down, digging her sharp nails into his cheeks. “Silence.”  
“Ah, his hand twitched.”  
“Then it is as the data suggested.”  
“Yes, High Priestess.” She dropped Shiro's face back to the table and stalked away. He laid there blinking. He knew he couldn't feel anything past his neck, but what could they even be playing with to make his body twitch by itself. He scoured his foggy mind, until he uncovered the only possible answer.

 

They were testing his central nervous system. Which meant his spine was likely exposed if they'd numbed him. He didn't know for sure.

 

Shiro stared blankly at the wall in front of him, the panic rising as he realised what could happen if they cut or damaged anything. “P-Please...don't touch that, please, get out of there, leave it alone, leave it alone!” He pleaded, eyes searching wildly for any shadows or hints of movement.

 

All he was met with was silence. Keith smoothed some of the hair from his face, glaring behind him, then giving Shiro a soft look. What he wouldn't give to be hallucinating again, his face buried in Keith's neck.

 

-

 

Time had lost all meaning to him as he woke up groggily in his cell. He looked at the scratches on the wall, that had petered out after only two movements and four quintants. It felt like he'd been here for phoebs, and that it wasn't even close to ending. They hadn't done any augmenting yet, and he was terrified how that would go. He regretted this; letting himself succumb to their way of life, because it had him here, in this nightmare world where they cut his body open with cold medical precision.

 

He heard the lock disengage and moved to the edge of the cot, steadying himself on his legs and watching intently as it opened. The pair of chatting guards wandered in, before stopping to look him up and down.

 

He didn't know what possessed him, but whatever it was could do it again. In a fluid movement, he got between them. Using his human arm to elbow one in the gut, he brought his fist under the chin of another. They reeled backwards and he was aware the body struck the floor as he whirled round and punched his metal fist into the other one's chest armour. It would only be glancing, but brought enough time for him to kick them in the unprotected stomach.

 

He threw himself through the door, feet slipping on the metal floor, but not enough to send him over as he used his hands to steady himself. Shiro sprinted as fast as his body would allow as he heard the shouts behind him. He couldn't do this any more; he couldn't remain detached. The voice in his head screamed in happiness, and as he made more and more ground, he was starting to feel that he had made the right decision.

 

That was until his body hit the floor and a heavy weight settled over him. He caught the black-gloved hand that held his prosthetic in place and all the elation and adrenaline dissipated away as quickly as it came. The dread surged back through the makeshift floodgates and Shiro screeched in anguish. His attempts to rip back his prosthetic or even move were dashed as something was stabbed into his shoulder, and he felt hot breath tickle against his ear. “I'm sorry, Shiro, but we can't let you leave yet.” All he could do was sob into the cold floor as hands grabbed him and he was dragged backwards.

 

-

 

“For your earlier attempt, you can watch.” The witch scowled at him like he was filth as she moved down his body. “Make him watch, Technician.” He caught Ulaz give a passive nod and moved towards him. Shiro tried to shake his grasp, but like every other time, couldn't, as his head was forced straight. He watched in horror as she cut from his collarbone down. “We will be taking tissue samples from your body,” the witch said, tone even, “we will peel your chest back and crack your ribs, much like your arm and legs.” She made a few more incisions and glanced to him, “have you ever seen the insides of your body?” Shiro cracked out a tiny “no,” as Ulaz pulled his eyes open. “Well,” the witch started, “now you will.” Shiro's eyes widened as he tried to shake his body free, screeching out in fear, but he was clamped in place to the table. A tube was forced down his throat that he almost choked on, and he watched more figures approach his body from the reflection.

 

“We'll be poking around your brain eventually.”  
Shiro cried out through the gag, hearing the beep of his heart rate rise.

 

-

 

Ulaz fell into Thace's chest and wrapped his arms around him. “Ulaz?”  
“Please, just hold me.” Thace pulled him in tightly, smoothing the back of his head. They remained locked together in the hallway for ten dobosh's until Ulaz broke down again. “He tried to escape, Thace, he tried and I caught him. I wanted to let him go.”  
“I know,” Thace gave his cheek a careful lick, and Ulaz pulled him in for a kiss.

 

“Go and take a nap. I'll make dinner.”  
“I'm sorry I am so...useless as of late.”  
“Don't be so stupid,” Thace gripped his arms tightly, claws digging in for emphasis, “you're not useless. Your work is just so...draining and...Ulaz I hate this, I hate seeing you like this.” Thace pulled him in again, burying his face in his neck. “This is so wrong.”  
“Haggar made him watch us open him up. His face when he heard his ribs cracked. Shiro looked so horrified. She threatened to pierce his heart with her claws, Thace, she...she,” Ulaz scrubbed at his face. “She's a deranged sadist.”  
“She's a monster.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how much I will explore Adam and Shiro's relationship, because I think I have most of the big pieces for them out of the way now. I had to remember that Adam was the one to break it off, and had too many ideas in honesty. One was that Shiro was just up front in that he cheated on him, another had him accuse Shiro and Keith of stuff...two stemmed from a letter of no confidence to Sanda, and one came from him being seen by Keith and Matt. I do really like Adashi, and would love to have seen more (hence the nice moments they have in memories), but I thought it'd be good to have them mutually be jackass's to each other. No ones a good person here; they're both awful in their own ways.
> 
> Not so much Sharkon but there's more time for that, plenty more. Sendak may be back soon too...ahhh...yes. I've missed writing him, that's why he's been in this chapter being wonderful as always.
> 
> My heart goes out to Shiro and Ulaz this chapter. Also Hepta, my child, Hepta.
> 
> Catch you all next chapter! Thanks for reading!


	40. Safeguard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These have been emotionally heavy chapters, so let me give you a genuinely nicer one. There's still the emotional heaviness, which will extend into chapter 41, but things are somewhat picking up. I say somewhat, because we are still not out of the woods yet.
> 
> Thank you all for the comments last chapter, and I'm genuinely sorry that some of you found it upsetting. I will forever tell you all to take breaks, however please observe the tags. As we're aware now, I don't write pretty. Although from a technical standpoint I am...amazed I managed to execute it as I did, I still don't like people being sad!
> 
> For the author and Shiro, there's been a few things that surface this chapter I wasn't factoring, which has also meant there's an old idea that has become usable again, and a new idea that is quite exciting.

“Good mornin', young master,” Kaleska peeked around the door as Hepta flopped down onto the sofa, stretching out as he yawned. “Mornin',” he rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. He heard her heavy footsteps as she placed down a steaming mug, and he offered her a wide smile as she settled in the chair opposite him. “Is there anythin' ya want fer dinner tonight? Mistress and Commander Trugg are off out, so ya get free reign.” She gave him a wink and Hepta chuckled as he picked up the mug, blowing it a few times. “I'm not sure? Eating feels weird right now, like...can I talk to you about work? Is that okay? I don't want to upset you.”

 

Kaleska shifted awkwardly in the seat. She was pretty big so she always looked uncomfortable when she sat down. “Its up to ya, young master, but so much as I hate the place, I care more aboutcha,” she cast him a serious look as she leaned forward, “so what happened?” Hepta exhaled and then took a deep breath in. “Shiro totally broke down and I didn't know what to do. At first he was pacing in his cell like he always does, cause he says he can't sleep. Oh, he told me because sometimes he sits by the door and we talk about things, by the way. But anyway, he's pacing and then he starts talking to the imaginary people again...there's three of them I think?” Hepta tilted his head to Kaleska, who was staring grimly at the floor. “Is this too much, Kaleska?”  
“Continue please, Hepta.” He nodded though she wasn't looking at him.

 

“So he goes and lays down on the floor, which is weird cause it's cold in there and usually he doesn't do it at night. He's there for a good half a varga just not moving until suddenly he just starts screaming and writhing on the floor clutching his head. Then he starts ripping his hair out but does a one-eighty and acts really scared. For a while he didn't do much else except breathe heavily, but then it started again when he just began punching the door. There's indents now in there, like really nasty-looking ones. I tried to help him but he grabbed my arm and it really hurt. It's not his fault; I think I scared him. But, I had to call for help and well, the druid used the shock stick and he just fell twitching to the floor. I'm worried he's just going to break a lot, and I don't know how to stop that. I just...you've been there I think?”  
“Yes, and it is a terrible place to be.”  
“I'm sorry, Kaleska, you must think I'm awful.”  
“Ya couldn't help being posted there, but at least ya know it's bad.”

 

“In all seriousness, I think I need your help. I think coming from you it would mean more.”  
“Why'd ya think that, young master?”  
“Cause...I don't like saying it, you know that, right?”  
“Cause I'm a slave, ya, I getcha.” Kaleska rose from her seat and pulled herself to full height, folding her arms over her chest as she looked down at him. “Well, young master, I think ya got a good idea brewin', but there's one problem.”  
“What's that?”  
“Gettin' me in there to speak ta him.”  
“Can't I just ask Haggar?”  
“Dunno if she'd want him bein' pestered.”  
“Well I can try. You are ok, though?”  
“Ya, it's fine young master. Drink ya leaf water, it'll go cold.”  
“Ahh yeah, sorry.” He necked it back and yawned again. She offered him a hand and he let her pull him up.

 

“Thank you for being like, the best.” Hepta buried his face into her soft shirt, smelling the familiar sweet scent of Iscantian marbaberries. “This always makes me hungry.”  
“Ya're a strange one, young master.”  
“Kaleska, you're the best mum I could ask for.” He felt her tense and quickly tightened his embrace. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”  
“It's fine. Perhaps getcha self to bed. Ya need your sleep!” She grinned at him and he realised what she was planning. “Noo! I'm not a kit any more!” He whined as she lifted him clean off the floor and slung him over her shoulder. “Don't care! Ya're light boy, who needs his damn sleep, ya got me?”  
“Yes! _Fine_!” He playfully rapped his knuckles against her shoulder, hearing a rumbling chuckle.

 

-

 

One of the druids had taken Shiro off to train, since he had his execution match set for a few quintants' time. Ulaz was quite certain it would be a bloodbath. Shiro also had a summons later this evening with the Emperor, and Ulaz could only dread how he'd come back this time. He took a long drag of his pipe as he settled down in a small office, sliding across three different displays to review the information he'd compiled so far.

 

The last few tests before augmentation varied, but the invasive ones were finally over. He leaned down over the desk, rubbing his eyes. Cutting skin from Shiro was bad enough, but having to bore small holes in his skull was another matter. The human was terribly brittle, structurally and psychologically speaking, which made Ulaz wonder how far Haggar was going to go with him. She'd locked herself away in her labs with all the samples, scans and notes, but was thankfully caught up in fixing the Komar as well.

 

He pulled up the observation chart from the night-cycle. Hepta was shaken, so he needed to make a note of what happened. As he skimmed the notes, then read back, a dark frown formed over his face. He paused momentarily before typing up a storm; he needed to check this against past logs. Perhaps he needed to get Sendak's backing, so Haggar would have to reign herself in. Well, that was if it was possible at this point. He didn't care any more of the consequences; Shiro hadn't been well for a long time, and this was just making it worse. He shouldn't have let it continue without debriefing him, he shouldn't have kept up this cold facade for so long. This was his fault.

 

-

 

“Subject, you have defeated it. Desist from further destruction.” Shiro ignored the order as he tore the wiring from the robot's metal corpse that sat under him. He'd wound the wires around his fingers and yanked them out, taking considerable glee from watching the way it sparked. He tossed the arm he'd ripped off into a small pile of parts he'd started to accumulate from the other training robots he'd been pitted against. Shiro let out a pleased cackle as metal clattered against metal. He let his gaze flicker back to the fluids that leaked over the floor. So easy to slip and crack your head on, did the Galra not have health and safety procedures?

 

He wished what he was fighting could bleed and scream. It'd be a nice change from it being him.

 

“I need more,” he whirled around to the druid and stalked forward with purpose, “give me more to break.” The druid observed him silently before motioning with it's finger. “If you wish to fight something else, I have an experiment you may enjoy fighting.” Shiro's eyes widened and his lips curled upwards. He let out a delighted laugh and followed eagerly. “Will it bleed?”  
“Oh yes, it will.”  
“Can I tear it to pieces?”  
“If you're able to.”  
“You hear that? I get to kill another monster.” He let his head roll back, and Keith gave him a small nod.

 

“Be careful, Shiro. I don't trust that thing there.” Keith motioned to the druid and Shiro nodded, falling back into step with him. “I don't either, but I have to behave. Even being detached has it's limits,” he raised his hand, the nails a little longer then he usually kept them. Keith gave him a solemn nod, gripping hold of his human arm. Shiro bumped his shoulder against his, “thanks for your visit today. I've not been good.”  
“When are you these days?” Shiro howled with laughter, clutching his chest. It wasn't funny, but it was so true. Damn, Keith knew him too well. “Whatever it is I get to fight, I'll show you how much stronger I am, kay?” Keith cocked an eyebrow at him, “I don't think you're weak, Shiro, far from it. Just maybe...reign it back a bit? It's frightening, what you did to the robots I mean.”  
“How so? They're not real.”  
“Yeah but you ripped it apart like you would a person. Imagine if that was me.”  
“No one will get chance to,” Shiro clamped his hands down on his shoulders, pushing Keith into a wall. “If anyone ever hurts you like they've done me, I'll kill them. I'll tear them to shreds.” He brushed his shaking hand against Keith's cheek. “You need to stay hidden, remember? If they find you I don't know what I'd do. The Galra'd probably try and fuck you, and you don't want that, it'd hurt.” He wanted to lean in and give him a quick kiss, but couldn't do that. Keith would probably be scared, then he'd leave and Shiro couldn't have that. He nodded his goodbye and caught up so the leash didn't tug as much. After his failed attempt at escape, the witch made sure he was cuffed and leashed anywhere he went.

 

The two took an elevator that seemed to just keep going down, until it eventually stopped. The druid strode out, Shiro quick to keep pace with its long strides. The hallways down here were dimly lit, like it was in permanent night-cycle mode. It'd taken his eyes a long time to grow accustomed to the lower light with the Galra, but now it was just as normal as a sunny day back on Earth. He caught himself wondering what it would be like being under the hot sun again: would the light blind him now? He'd also not been planet-side in well over a year, and wondered how that would feel after so long. He had to admit, he missed breathing in clean air and feeling the wind on his face.

 

“Go in there,” the druid pointed to a door as it removed the leash, “and wait. I will bring it out.” Shiro gave a curt nod and made his way to the door. He pressed his prosthetic palm against it, and the thing opened much to his surprise. He stepped in, blinking at the size of the room. It was a little smaller than the arena, and certainly not as high, however there was an observation deck from what he could make out.

 

In no time at all, the druid came through another door pulling a small alien, their eyes glowing a dull purple-white. Shiro flexed his fingers, a wide smirk forming over his face. _This is gonna be so easy._ Then you better make it count, right? _Yeah, yeah. Play with it like a cat._ Exactly. He lifted his arm as the druid came over to release the inhibitor, gaze locked on the tiny opponent. He activated it, tilting his head to the right as he gave it a wild gaze. “I'm gonna enjoy tearing you apart.”

 

-

 

“Shouldn't you be asleep, Officer Hepta?”  
“Yeah, but I can't.” Ulaz leaned back in his chair, blowing the smoke from his nose. “So, why are you calling?”  
“I was thinking about Shiro, and how bad he is. I'm worried, okay? I know it's not proper but like, I see him as a weird friend. Pretty much, would I be able to bring Kaleska in to see him?”  
“On what basis?”  
“The basis it would probably be good for him to talk to someone who's been through the labs before. We can't really relate to him, when you think about it. I mean, we're also the ones cutting him open, well, you are more then me. Sorry, that was rude.” Ulaz rubbed his eyes and sighed down the communicator. “You made your point clear. As lead, I can authorise it. It makes sense.”  
“Are you okay? You sound preoccupied.”  
“I am. I'm note trawling. I think I need to put him on medication.”  
“What type?”  
“Antipsychotics. From the reading I've been doing, I'm starting to think he fits the bill for it.”  
“Is that bad?”  
“It can be if he's left to his own devices. I've seen him at low points before, and he won't be fit for augmentation at this rate if he continues getting worse.” There was a long pause on the phone. “I think he needs them too. Good luck, sir, I'll see you later.”  
“Thank you. Sleep well, Officer Hepta.”  
“Thanks! You too!”

 

Ulaz placed the communicator down and paused for a moment as he rechecked the notes. It had been gradual; very gradual, but the prognosis was likely psychosis stemming from the stress, anxiety, sleep deprivation, and depression caused by all his abuses. He placed the pipe down and pressed his hands against his eyes. “Why can't you just call now?” He muttered to no one but himself. He looked at his communicator again, dreading the call with Sendak; depending on whether he even picked up.

 

“I need your assistance, or are you also too busy talking to yourself?”  
Ulaz's head snapped up as he saw the druid in the room. His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly regulated himself. It could be passed off as surprise, as much as he would be mocked for being so easily shaken. “What's wrong?” He pushed himself from the seat and moved round, arms behind his back. “I just need some assistance removing needles from the subject,” the druid turned, “it got very enthusiastic.”  
“I see,” Ulaz followed the druid from the room and down the corridor, and let out an exasperated sigh. “What did you let him fight against?”  
“One of the failed experiments.”

 

Ulaz moved towards Shiro, who was sat swinging his legs off the side of table, like usual, but was just with two inch spines stabbed into his arms, legs and chest, and he was coated in blood. He seemed to realise Ulaz had approached and finally looked up, eye twitching but relatively content-looking aside from the small head wound. “It grew them out after it sucked the quintessence from my hand.”  
“Did you need to fight close combat?”  
“Obviously,” Shiro snorted as he motioned to himself.  
“Did you win?”  
“Victory or death, right?” Ulaz didn't like the forced grin, and he didn't like how he looked ready to burst into tears either. He turned to the druid, who still lingered, likely on Haggar's orders.

 

“You are dismissed, but I will need you to change tomorrows scheduled test for me.”  
“You are not to be left with the subject alone.”  
“Unless it's in my capacity as his healer, which I still am,” Ulaz's eyes narrowed, “and on the basis of confidentiality, I can request you to leave.”  
“Then your memory will be checked to verify afterwards.”  
“That is fine,” the pointed reply made the druid pause, before they moved to leave. “What test is happening tomorrow in place of the scheduled one?”  
“Bring forward the drugs test.”  
“Understood.” They left without a word, and Ulaz moved to lock the door. He ran a hand through his mohawk.

 

Shiro felt a weight settle beside him before his body was eased back. “I need to take these out. Did you rip the ones from your face?” Shiro nodded slowly, gaze fixed on the ground. It didn't hurt much with the needles stuck in him, it was just uncomfortable and there were a lot. His hand had deactivated and he couldn't make it work, which seemed like a stupid design flaw if anyone ever asked him. He still won, of course he did, but it was a strange fight. The eyes, they bugged him.

 

“Ow, that hurt.”  
“They will. The tips, if you can see here, are very slightly barbed.”  
“Oh okay.” Shiro toyed with the spine before snapping it in two. He picked up another and snapped that, finding mild amusement in the noise. His eyes caught Adam over by the wall, a look of disgust on his face. “Take your silent judging and shove it up your ass.”  
“I'm not judging you, Shiro-”  
“I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to him,” Shiro pointed to the corner and Ulaz followed his gaze. “What can you see, Shiro?”  
“I must be hearing things if you've used my name,” Shiro glanced down momentarily before turning his attention back to Adam, “but yeah it's just him, leaning against the wall looking at me like I'm trash. If he bothers talking, I'll hear that. If he's a dickhead, well,” he brought up the prosthetic.

 

“I can't believe you, honestly.”  
“I didn't say I'd kill you, I'm not _that_ bad.”  
“Have you had a look in the mirror recently? Look at you, you're a fucking mess, Takashi. Who are you? _What_ are you, really?”  
“What do you fucking expect?”  
“You don't get to keep playing the victim!” Adam pushed himself from the wall and moved forward. Shiro's eyes narrowed and he growled out in warning, but Adam seemed to be deaf to it as he continued pressing his buttons. _He was good at that_. “Sure, your situation is terrible,” he motioned around him, “and I'm not saying you deserve it, but you've made your own choices, it's not just them deciding everything for you. You had a choice about the arm, you chose _this,_ a life with them. You traded that for what? Some vague hope of safety and security? I don't think you've noticed, but this isn't it.”  
“I don't need to hear this shit-”  
“Stop running away! You always do this, always ignore stuff until it gets to a breaking point. Just like your condition, just like our relationship! You need help, Takashi, you're beyond fucked up at this point,” he shook his head, a look of pity on his face, “I don't even know if therapy will help you. I think a quick death, you know, bolt gun or something between the eyes? Like an animal, something humane and quick-”  
“ _Stop it!_ ” Shiro had launched himself from the table, fist drawn back.

 

Adam was gone and there was an indent in the floor. His body ached from the spines, and as he looked down at his shaking blood-stained hands, he realised where he was again. He blinked, sinking to the ground. For a few ticks Shiro sat in silence, before he screamed and grabbed a bunch of spines, tearing them from his leg.

 

A firm hand gripped his wrists. “No more, _please_.”  
“This is all just too much,” Shiro slumped backwards into Ulaz's chest and he allowed the contact, “I can barely sleep, I keep seeing and hearing and smelling things and I just...just...” his voice cracked and Ulaz gripped him even tighter.  
“I'm so sorry I've failed you.” Shiro's eyes widened at that. “But y-you-”  
“I...warned you before we came here, if you can remember?”  
“I don't.” Shiro turned around to look at him, and felt a sharp pain lance through his chest at how Ulaz looked. “Y-You think I've been purposefully doing this?”  
“Yeah. Don't - your eyes,” Shiro pulled his human hand away and smoothed the corner of his eye, feeling the damp. “Are you-”  
“Let me please remove the needles first,” Ulaz hoisted him up and placed him down on the table again. “I want you to describe this room from memory, so close your eyes and tell me as I do this.” Shiro nodded slowly and did as instructed.

 

“You certainly keep me busy,” Ulaz whispered as he finished applying the gel to Shiro's forehead. “Yeah, I'm sorry,” Shiro looked away as he hunched forward, “I'm annoying, right?”  
“No,” a hand cupped his face and brought it up gently, “you're just very hurt.”  
“By my own doing. We both know that.”  
“No, Shiro. The deck has always been stacked against you here.”  
“What did I do? Honestly, what did I do that warrants all this?” He folded into himself, scrubbing madly at his eyes. He wouldn't cry, he could withstand all this, it'd pass, it'd-  
“You never did anything.” He wished the soft words meant something.  
“But it all feels like it comes back to me, and I don't understand! I'm not arrogant, I know the universe doesn't revolve around me, I just...just don't know _why_?” Shiro almost fell off the table but he was caught and pulled into a tight embrace. “I'm so sorry, I don't know.”

 

They remained in each others arms until Ulaz finally loosened his hold. “Shiro, I need to talk to you about something very important.”  
“Yeah?” The response was understandably wary, and he swallowed. “The people you see, do you know they aren't real?”  
“I know they aren't _really_ here, because they can't be, right? I mean, you'd tell me, wouldn't you? It wouldn't be a lie either, right? Like some game to make me think I'm hallucinating when in fact you have captured them-”  
“No, no. We only have you and the other human, Sam, was it?”  
“Yeah, Sam,” Shiro nodded his head, like he was trying to recall him. Ulaz settled on the table, close enough their thighs touched. He'd missed their soft moments, and he hoped somewhere in there, Shiro did too. “It feels real, when they are here. I can sometimes touch them. They didn't talk before, but lately they do, and when it's like that, that's when it feels real. Everything around me's the same, like I'm here, but I'm not? I don't know how to explain it.” Ulaz nodded slowly as he listened. “I'm scared after I come out of them; real scared. I mean look there, or the cell door,” he swallowed, “I think I hurt Hepta.”

 

“You did, but he's alright. He's worried about you.”  
“Is he?”  
“Yes, he and I don't think you are well. I've been spending this morning reading your notes, and then reading from the data banks. I think I need to put you on medication, because otherwise...well I don't really know what will happen, but I don't imagine it would be good.”  
“What do I need medication for?”  
“The hallucinations of course. Your thoughts and behaviours have changed considerably, and this, I think, has been how you've been trying to cope. But honestly, Shiro, when were you last truly happy?”  
“When I was tearing apart the alien earlier,” he motioned to his clothes, “that was fun.”  
“Shiro, that's not normal.”  
“How? The Galra are bloodthirsty and enjoy battle, right? So how is it not fun?”  
“Shiro, not every Galran has a bloodlust to rival the Emperor or the Commander. What about myself, or Hepta? Do you think we are bloodthirsty?”  
“Well you were both soldiers, right? So wouldn't you have to be by default?”  
“Did you crave battle and warfare when you joined the Garrison?”

 

Shiro tilted his head to the side, eyes darting about as he tried to think. “I don't know any more. It feels like forever ago.”  
“Well Earth is at peace, or so you said, so if there was nothing to fight, you joined this organisation without bloodlust. So why can't we?” Ulaz cast him an disquieted look and Shiro stared down at the floor. “Aren't you supposed to be a warrior race or something?”  
“Yes, but not everyone is. The Galra Empire is expansive, and though you may not believe it, there're some Galra who don't believe in what the Empire does.”  
“Do you mean like the Blade of Marmora?”  
“Not just them,” Ulaz pushed himself back onto the table, sitting cross-legged, “I was born into a family that detested what the Empire did the to Alteans-”  
“The magical space elves?”  
“I don't know what an elf is, but listen,” Ulaz gave him a small smile, and Shiro offered a curt nod as he pulled himself around.

 

“Before Diabazaal was destroyed, the Empire was very different to what you see today. Even Zarkon was a better, kinder leader back then – and a Paladin of Voltron. Along with King Alfor and the other Paladins, they all protected the universe. However after Diabazaal was destroyed and Zarkon was in fact, not dead as was believed, he called the Empire to destroy his enemies. My parents were believers of a very old and niche religion of Diabazaal that taught pacifistic values, although it also used control and corporal punishment as a means to subjugate the followers, but I digress. These values had them and the other believers at odds with the establishment, and so they were cast out. That was where I was born and raised.”  
“So, why did you join? Surely you'd be too passive?”  
“My old mentor said I was too kind,” Ulaz glanced at him, a sad smile on his lips, “at first I wanted to 'do the Galran thing' and fight for the Empire, but after a while, even after I'd unlearned a few bad habits, the idea left a bad taste in my mouth and more so when I served as a soldier. Eventually, I wound up doing medical jobs, then ended up here after further studying, and then with the Commander on his ship. The Empire has other roles, like intelligence officers and engineers. Not everyone comes in wanting to kill and fight, some want to help their people in other ways.”  
“Isn't this at the expense of everyone else? People like me?”  
“Sadly, yes. But this is what has happened to the Empire over the last ten thousand deca-phoebs; it has become this corrupt beast that you see before you. Before, it was exploring and understanding other races, but now it is about conquest and subjugation all for quintessence.”

 

“I still take pride in my ability to fight – it's as natural to me as breathing – but as I've aged my priorities have changed, and I know my skills are better-fit for other things. Yes, I am ridiculed and insulted, and yes, I have been ostracised in the past, but I have been true to myself. Regardless, you are not Galran, Shiro, and you shouldn't hold yourself to our standards.”  
“You don't understand. If I don't hold myself to Galran standards, I'm left with what I came from. By Earth standards, which lemme tell you vary because no where is the same, I should either kill myself to atone for my mistakes, be in prison or killed for my crimes, or locked up in a psychiatric ward. Then there's the 'oh he's a prisoner, so it should be absolved', but then you can argue that actually no I still had a choice and...and...” he flexed his prosthetic fingers, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck as his imagination ran away with him.

 

“Look, I accepted this, I accepted it all. I can't, it all conflicts, it's all...I can't ever go back. I even told the Emperor, okay? I'm starting to feel more like it anyway, learning about you all, being around you all the time and just...it's hard, okay? It's hard because I've started to enjoy being here with you all, made relationships and just. I don't know, it's appealing. I don't have to think so much, Ulaz. Do you know how good that feels when your mind is making you revisit old memories that leave you feeling bitter and resentful? Then you just go to the arena and the noise and smells and just the feeling of mindlessly doing something? It's like, I might be aggressive and all that but I'm _happy_. I crave the little buzzes. Like the warden, do you know how satisfying that was? She wanted to watch me tear her prisoners to shreds,” he clenched the prosthetic fist with a sick smile, “but she was weak, and it gave me so much joy watching her realise she was losing to a slave, and in an even funnier way too, pretty much a sex slave. That must be humiliating, right? I'm not sure what really is any more-” Shiro was stopped by another tight embrace.

 

“At your core, you are still a good person, even if you feel you're not.”  
“It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of that rather then me.”  
“Then please, let me help you dig it back out.” Ulaz rubbed his cheek, and Shiro's eyes closed as he leaned in. “What kind of weapon has morals? The Commander will hurt you, I can't have that happen. The Emperor might too, and me. Ulaz, you can give me meds but don't go looking, don't go hunting for things that's already got me tied up. Internally, imagine a gruesome tug-of-war between multiple parties-”  
“Shiro, you can't internalise all that.”  
“It's safer, it's safer then breaking down every five dobosh's. It's safer then bringing others in. Ulaz, I barely know anyone non-Galran and almost all but one are dead, some I had to kill myself and others I was too powerless to help.” His tone was cold now as he pushed himself from the table and paced the room. “You report to Commander and the witch, Haxus is...well he's Haxus, and then Hepta is okay but he's an idiot and insensitive at times. The Commander is...he depends.” Shiro stopped pacing to stared at Ulaz. “There's too much danger, you can't understand what it's like to be in this position.”  
“What if you could talk to someone who was?”  
“It might help. I don't know.”  
“I see.” Ulaz pushed himself from the table. “Come, let us look in to this medication business.”

 

-

 

Sendak's ear flicked as he watched Champion pushed to his knees. His long hair had been cut back and he didn't look particularly well. The lead was unclipped, but his hands remained cuffed behind him.  
“I have been informed of your escape attempt.” Sendak's attention snapped to the Emperor as he glared down at Champion. “Explain yourself.”  
“The guards provided me an easy opening and I took it. The experiments have become too much and in a moment of weakness, I wanted freedom from the labs. Punish me as you see fit, my Emperor.” His voice was level, confident and precise, which made Sendak pleased on one hand, but angry on the other for such actions. “I believe Haggar's punishment was sufficient at the time. You have complied since?”  
“It has been absolute, Sire.”  
“See this does not happen again.” He clicked his claws and he noted the tense jolt, small as it was, as Champion moved towards the Emperor. He settled by the side of the throne, and Zarkon ran his hand through his hair.

 

“Commander Sendak, has the treasonous dreck been interrogated?”  
“He has, although like the others before him, memory dredging remains a pointless exercise.”  
“Did he reveal any useful information through other means?”  
“No, Sire. All he would repeat was that he had chosen death.”  
“Let me see him. Bring him in!” Zarkon's voice carried through the throne room and the doors opened. Two druids strode in dragging a body behind them. Shiro narrowed his eyes, they didn't seem to be moving much at all.

 

His stomach dropped when they were thrown to the foot of the steps. Shiro peered down at the Galra, his pale fur torn to shreds in places, and in others he could see the swelling. If Sendak and Haxus had roughed him up, he was likely supporting a good few broken bones right now. In this state, Shiro might as well execute him there and then. Part of him wanted to enjoy the fight, but the other part of him needed to get away from all of this. _No, it is right to preform the execution, they have betrayed the Empire. Stop falling upon the old ways, we're not supposed to feel guilt or remorse._ But look at him. _He made his choice._

 

Zarkon had moved without him realising, and held the Galran up by his throat. “What do you know, dreck?” All Zarkon received was spit in his face. Shiro winced but held firm as Zarkon threw him across the ground. The body remained still. He caught Sendak's fur fluffed out and his attention firmly on the Emperor and prisoner. As much as Zarkon tried, and through the ever-increasing anger, the prisoner didn't yield at all. They just kept glaring at Zarkon defiantly, even when the Emperor dug his clawed fingers into his eye. Shiro could only watch the floor, trying to block out the scream. He heard Zarkon summon Sendak to help him some more and kept his gaze firmly on the floor in front of him.

 

He couldn't watch; he didn't want to. Listening was just as bad. He was complicit as a bystander; this wasn't what good people did.

 

-

 

“There are more scars then I like here.” Sendak rubbed his finger behind Champion's ear, a dark frown on his face. Champion remained as silent as he had since they were released from the throne room, his gaze focused on something in the middle distance, or perhaps the wall. Originally, he planned to have Champion, however there was something so off with him that it was unsettling Sendak.

 

“Champion, speak.”  
“About what?”  
“This. What are these scars here from?” He pressed the one he was touching.  
“An operation where all vestigial parts were removed. Humans apparently have unnecessary muscles around there.”  
“Why did they remove it?”  
“I don't know. The High Priestess does. Why are you asking?” Champion locked his eyes with his and took a step forward. “You authorised this, you didn't think to _tell_ me or _warn_ me?”  
“I considered you strong enough-”  
“Was this on the basis of being sedated?”  
“Why would you not-” Sendak caught up very quickly when Champion scowled at him.

 

“You have not been fully under?”  
“Not for all of it, no. Have you ever seen the inside of your chest, Commander?” He tapped Sendak's for emphasis, “have you ever seen and heard your ribs cracked back and watched people work above you, taking tiny little samples of your organs? Have you seen your heart beat or your lungs compress? Have you ever had your central nervous system poked and prodded without realising? Or how about watching your skin get cut out? Ah yeah, I almost forgot to tell you my _favourite_ ,” Sendak could hear the sarcasm and madness at this point as Champion pointed to his leg, “have you ever felt a vice crush your bone slowly? Have you felt every agonising moment until you hear the crack and smell the blood and see the skin, muscle and bone? That was to test how much my pain tolerance and how much my bones could take.” Champion said proudly as rested his hands against Sendak's stomach, digging his sharp little nails in. “Well, have _you_?”  
“No, I have not.” He quietly answered.

 

“Ulaz wants to put me on medication,” Shiro finally broke the silence as he moved away, pacing about, “see I don't know how the fuck I'm still able to function, but I've been seeing and hearing things – feeling things. I can't sleep much at all these quintants. If I do it's all broken because I'm having nightmares. I can't understand what I've done to displease you to the point you thought this was okay.”  
“What type of medication?”  
“Antipsychotics I think.” He turned to the Sendak, who was frowning down at the floor. “Is that regret or are you thinking? What is this?” Sendak remained silent for a while longer until he slowly looked over at him. “Come here, now.”  
“If you're going to hurt me just get it over with.” Shiro muttered as he moved and came to a stop.

 

Sendak's embrace felt like it would crush his fragile body. “You should not have undergone that.”  
“Well it's happened now.”  
“Has-”  
“If you're going to ask about Ulaz, no, he hasn't been supportive. Your threat to keelhaul him scared him off. I thought his coldness was on purpose, but he said he'd pre-warned me. I can't blame him, you can be terrifying. Today was the first time we've spoken properly in ages.” Shiro tried to pull away but Sendak gripped him tighter.

 

“I may have miscalculated.”  
“You think? I'm not indestructible – you seem to not register how much has been put upon me being here!” Shiro snapped, pressing his forehead against Sendak's, “and you know what's worse? The fact I'm just a _fucking plaything_ to you all.” He grit out, trying to yank his arms free. “So again, Commander, stop drawing this out and just get on with it.”

 

Without a word, Sendak scooped him up and carried him off, keeping his legs in place so Champion didn't kick his chest. He was in one of these moods again, which was from Sendak's point of view, understandable. He was also livid with Haggar – she had overstepped the line. He didn't authorise her to remove body parts, needed or not, that was not her place. Any punishments could be left to the Emperor if it was needed, not through making him watch what they did. Worst of all, he had stabbed himself in the foot with his own sword. In his pettiness and jealousy, he had made the situation worse.

 

“I will grant you this weakness.” Sendak murmured as he set Shiro down on the bathroom floor. He moved to run the water and slowly settled back down beside him. They both watched the water fill the depression, its thunderous roar the only noise between them.

 

“I've missed you, you know.”  
“Have you?”  
“I've started to realise just how much recently.” Shiro swallowed as he watched the water catch in the light. “Whether it's good or not - I don't ever know your motivations - you've been there through...really difficult things. The times that have been...good...have started to outrank all the bad and I,” he paused, chewing his lip, “have found you have mostly kept your word.” He let Sendak pull him into his lap and watched the fingers move towards his throat. The collar clicked off and he felt his hand run carefully over the flesh. “Your presence has been missed as well.”  
“Do you mean my use as a cock warmer for you?”  
“No, I mean your strange ways and little furnace body.”  
“Sendak?”  
“Yes, Champion?”  
“Kiss me.”  
“Are you certain?”  
“Yes.” Shiro lifted his head, watching the Commander weigh it up.

 

-

 

Sendak gently knocked him back into the pillows, and Shiro pulled him back in for another kiss, fingers rubbing under his ears. The Commander purred loudly, smoothing a hand along his naked side until he reached his hip, the other keeping himself supported. After a very quiet and relaxed bath, which both of them clearly needed, the gentle kisses had started again. For both of them it was weird, but it was also so desperately needed. “Sendak,” Shiro breathed, dragging his fingers through the fur over his shoulders. “Keep making me feel something, please.” In response, Sendak pushed his prosthetic under his back and used the other to support his head as he pulled Shiro up into his lap. Shiro made a small moan as he felt the heat press between his legs. He pushed his hands through the longer chest fur, then down over the shorter bits. It was a change to _appreciate_ each other like this.

 

Shiro found himself grinding into Sendak when he found the bits on his back and teased the muscles. As usual, he collapsed into his chest but remained supported. There was a low purr above him, and Shiro nipped at his chest. “They are very sharp now.”  
“Yeah,” he pulled himself up and nipped at Sendak's lips, who hummed in response. “You will not let me continue doing this?” He pressed under each shoulder blade and earned a soft groan. “Why're you being so soft with me?”  
“I am being attentive towards you because I made mistakes, and you have suffered more than necessary. You like that, I believe?”  
“Y-Yeah, I do. I mean, you can go rougher-”  
“I will let you lead instead if you wish for it.” Sendak tilted his head up, stroking under his chin. Genuinely touched, Shiro took his organic hand in his prosthetic, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you, Commander.”

 

-

 

Shiro woke to find Sendak curled around him, his organic arm slung over his waist and the warm press of his erection against his ass cheek. Shiro turned his head, watching him sleep. _He still frowns._ He couldn't stifle the small chuckle, and pushed his body back into his warmth. It was early, and Shiro could always do with more sleep. He wanted to enjoy this gentleness for what short time he could. He swiped at his eyes; he wasn't going to get emotional; it'd just hurt more when he was gone again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are.
> 
> Sendak was a difficult boy this chapter because I had to back-track and check what he'd actually agreed to, and whether I like it or not, I can't have him forever mean if Shiro is to trust him. I didn't want to go full smut because I'm saving it for a later point where the pay-off is much better.
> 
> No Sharkon this chapter because frankly I don't think Shiro can cope with it.
> 
> Regarding the anti-psychotics, I've been doing a lot of reading in to it, along with psychosis. I've been finding accounts and watching videos to try and get a good understanding, as well as checking the possible causes, but as usual, I will remain careful and sensitive to how I write. It just may get a bit intense at times, but I'll warn you all.
> 
> Hope to see you next chapter, and thanks for sticking with me!


	41. Dissection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! it's very much appreciated!
> 
> This chapter carries on within a similar vein as the last. It's still a relief chapter for Shiro, although I'm expecting it may not go as expected in some places. It is as planned, however. The chapter will hit a downer by the end, more so for Ulaz and Thace. 
> 
> Aside from that, get yourself a cup of tea (or something nice to drink) and snuggle yourselves in some blankets, and I hope you enjoy this very long chapter.

“Both of you, follow me _now_.” Sendak growled, and Hepta and Ulaz fell into step behind him, glancing warily at each other. His fur was fluffed out and his stare could only be described as murderous. “Where is Haggar?”  
“She is within her lab, I believe-” Ulaz cowed at the glare and glanced to Shiro, who was stuck close to Sendak's side.

 

“Commander, please don't get yourself in trouble.”  
“Do not worry about me.” Sendak gave him a quick look. He'd contacted the Emperor this morning and aired his grievances rather loudly. He had listened, and agreed that she had overstepped her boundaries over experimentation. What good was a weapon that could turn on them at any given moment? What good would it do in the long-run to leave him so mentally broken? Sendak glanced down at Champion, who looked scared for lack of a better word. Without caring, he hoisted him up into his arms, pressing his face against his chest. At this rate he'd be broken like Yastara, and he never wanted that of him. The stubborn creature was a fine warrior, and he would make sure _no one_ ruined that.

 

“Haggar, a word,” Haggar turned to see the entourage enter her lab. She frowned at them all, uncertain why Sendak was cradling Champion in his arms or why he glared at her. “What is it you require?”  
“I _require_ you to terminate all useless testing and get to augmentation. You've left him marked and you...” it was rare that Sendak was lost for words, more so around others, “your methods are breaking him mentally, and the Emperor agrees with me.” She hated it when the Emperor was aware of things, she was already out of favour with him due to the failure of the Komar and the inability to locate the Lions. “Explain.”  
“What is there to explain?” Sendak snarled as he held Champion tighter, “you are aware of the hallucinations but have done nothing-”  
“He is the lead for a reason,” Haggar pointed to Ulaz, who Sendak cast a glare at.

 

“High Priestess, you have filled my time and not responded to my requests for reprieve. On the odd occasions I could, I have stopped. However like the Commander, I agree about his mental state. He has already attacked the guards and Officer Hepta, he's bit me as well. If he was an officer of the Empire, this would not have happened – and if it did – the memories would be purged. You banned purging phoebs' ago, and if we can all recall, he was not in a good place then, was he?” The pause between them was deafening as Ulaz slowly moved between Sendak and Haggar. “We have reached an impasse where no one will get what they want at this rate. Shiro cannot take any more; but this doesn't just extend to experimentation,” at this point he gave Sendak a hard glare, “you need to stop normalising sexual violence against him.”  
“He-”  
“I don't _care,_ Commander! You've caused this damage from systematic abuses. He is a slave – your slave – of course he's going to submit!”

 

“He isn't all bad,” Shiro could feel their eyes on him as he peered out from Sendak's chest, “it may've started out that way, but it's okay now. I ask him to, I like it. Besides,” he offered Sendak a warm smile, “the Commander was very gentle and kind, like he has been for a while. You don't see that, but he's honestly not as volatile as you think, believe me.” He watched Ulaz carefully consider him. “What about what you have been through _not_ at the hands of the Commander?”  
“Well it's not all been terrible. Sometimes it is a bit scary, but then I remember I've already got through it before, and it's not so bad then. Honestly, I enjoy a lot of it now...maybe not having my teeth and nails ripped out, that hurt, but otherwise that's easier to process. Besides, you were really nice to me, and I'm grateful for that.” Ulaz blinked at him like he shouldn't of said that, but it seemed like an honest discussion above him. Sendak would be pleased with him.

 

“Regardless of the latter, what exactly are you suggesting?” Sendak glared at him.  
“I'm not sure, because you can't put someone on the spot like this to make such a huge decision regarding the future of someone's mental health. From a professional standpoint, he needs medication and therapy right now. He needs to be out of the labs in a safe environment that does not exacerbate his condition. Structure and something to do would probably help as well.” Ulaz wished he could state that Shiro needed to be back on Earth. For all his concerns about returning, they were ultimately better equipped to handle him then someone who had spent a few phoebs' learning with no one to engage with.

 

“He is supposed to be weaponised.”  
“And I believe, High Priestess, you wanted him mentally sound?”  
“How long will that take to happen?”  
“I can't say,” Ulaz sighed heavily, noting Sendak shift Shiro in his arms, “it depends on too many factors.”  
“Is there any compromises? Any way to expedite his recovery?” Sendak queried.  
“I don't _know_.”

 

“If you're willing to listen to me, you know, the person you're talking about like they're not here,” Shiro piped up, “then there's one thing you can do.” He wiggled and Sendak placed him down. Shiro straightened out the body suit and took a deep breath. “Purge.”  
“Purge what?” Haggar tilted her head at him as he moved to settle underneath the table. Sendak followed, but Shiro motioned for him to stop as he brought his legs up, tucking his knees under his chin. “Right now, the biggest problem is that I cannot let go of what I learned on Earth, at all. So much as there are similar things between humans and Galrans...some of these are outdated by my standards.” He glanced between the faces that stared at him, and he wondered if they could actually grasp what he was trying to explain.

 

“Human cultures have strong moral codes that affect our personal ethics. Sometimes they won't...work together, and sometimes they do. Back on Earth, one thing I struggled with was the concept of considering the needs of the individual over the needs of the many. I'm used to empathising...identifying with others. Then,” he frowned into the floor, “when I moved away, that wasn't the case as much. It felt much more selfish, not as caring. I struggled there. This,” he motioned around him, “is a thousand times worse.” He watched Hepta sit on the floor a few feet away, listening intently.

 

“I still accept my place with the Galra, I still want to be of use and have a purpose. I'm...grateful that you've put so much time and energy into me, granting me a new lease of life. I just...can't focus on that. My life on Earth outweighs my time here considerably, and you can't get rid of all that so easily. Like the arena – I may enjoy the fights, I may crave it, but in the back of my head, the voices don't stop. It doesn't fucking end.” He glanced out from his sheltered spot. “So that's why that needs to be purged. If you want me, you need to get rid of what's so embedded within my psyche, otherwise it's just gonna cycle like a wheel.”

 

“Shiro, you can't mean that?” Ulaz bent down, eyes wide with alarm. “Think about what you're saying.”  
“I have been, for phoebs now. That, and what I've...had to see during the experiments.” He bit into his forearm. “It's the only way I can see, otherwise I'm just going to be haunted forever, and what use would I be then? I know I shouldn't have done what I did, I'm sane enough to get that, but I just...I just can't keep going on. So please, take it away, take Earth's conditioning away from me. Please listen, while I've something left.” He couldn't hold back the lump in his throat and flopped down onto the floor, drawing himself into the fetal position as sobs racked his body. Maybe if they saw his weakness, they would grant him this mercy. The only remaining option was to get the Emperor to kill him, and considering Zarkon hated disrespect, he was sure he could let phoebs of feelings out at once.

 

“Officer Hepta,” Sendak kept his voice even, “can you keep an eye on Takashi Shirogane for me? Haggar, Ulaz and I need to have a discussion.” Hepta looked up at Sendak and nodded as he inched closer towards the table cautiously. He ran a hand through his fur, glancing at the other two. Ulaz looked deeply uncomfortable, while Haggar remained impassive as usual. In all his deca-phoebs, he had never had this much trouble with a slave before, and had started to wonder if he should have just kept him as a pleasure slave. He caught himself wondering whether Zarkon had foreseen these difficulties, and that was why he was given him all those phoebs ago. He did, after all, attack his friend. He knew it was punishment for himself, but even then that was far too indirect for the Emperor. He motioned the others to follow as he pulled himself from his thoughts, and they moved to an empty office.

 

The atmosphere was beyond tense, and it seemed no one wanted to be the first to talk. Even Haggar was unnaturally reserved for them storming into her lab and disturbing her. Finally, Sendak managed to speak. “As his healer, what do you think of his outburst?”  
“I think it's accumulated over time into what we've just seen. I've seen him bad before, he broke down yester-quintant too. The hallucinations are affecting his life, Commander, and I can't deem him sane enough for this any longer. I also don't believe he's cognitively ready to make the decision regarding purging,” he shifted awkwardly on his feet, “because then he will have presumably large gaps in his memories. It will likely affect his personality, and we do not know what we will be left with.”  
“One would presume a much cleaner slate. It would suit the repurposing.” Haggar interjected. “He wants it gone, and I am content enough to oblige-”  
“On what basis, Haggar?” Sendak's eye narrowed, “have you become so lost again in your work?”  
“Don't _speak_ to me in that tone, Sendak!” She snapped as she turned on him. The room descended back into silence.

 

“It might be easier to just terminate him.” Haggar started, “I have enough biological matter I could clone him.” She ignored the looks of disgust and Sendak's snarl. “You both carry too many sentiments. He is mentally weak, useless like this. A clone can be improved on-”  
“You will _not_ do such a thing.”  
“Why? It would make your repurposing much easier-”  
“You will not do it, and my word is final.” Sendak pulled himself up to full height, teeth bared. Haggar scowled up at him, not intimidated by the action in the slightest. “You would stifle the Empire for a single slave?”  
“He's more then that!” Both Sendak and Ulaz answered in unison. They stared at each other, and Haggar realised she was on the back-foot if they remained unified. “The Emperor was right in his concerns regarding you. You've become _enamoured_ with him-”  
“Your ploy will not work, Haggar,” Sendak spat. “He is _mine,_ he is _my_ responsibility. Terminating him would be a weakness in of itself!”  
“As a weapon he becomes the property of the Empire, not _you_.” She hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. The Commander was testing her patience; she would not allow the subject to slip from her grasp again, not when there was further experiments and augmentation, not with what she had planned.

 

“Enough of this baiting!” Ulaz snapped, pushing between the two of them. “I have _had enough of this!_ Whether either of you like it or not, he has sentience! He is not to be simply cast aside for ease,” he glared at Haggar, “and he is not an object or creature to be owned,” his attention turned to Sendak, “a decision must be reached.”  
“You are too personally involved with the subject – both of you are – and it skews your judgement.” Haggar spat.  
“And your cold indifference is any better?” Sendak placed his hand on Ulaz's shoulder, making him flinch at the touch. He looked up at his face, expression unreadable, “I am going to tell Officer Hepta to take Takashi Shirogane out. A decision is being reached today, and that is final.” He stalked from the room, leaving Ulaz and Haggar to their anger.

 

-

 

“Is there, uh, anything you wanted to do?” Hepta awkwardly asked as they stood outside the labs. Shiro looked around, unsure what exactly he _wanted_ to do. They'd been released by Sendak fifteen dobosh's ago, and Hepta needed to keep his communicator on. He felt mentally exhausted, and his first response was to sleep, but that wouldn't help him. Crying was also an option, but that was hurting his chest at this point. “I don't know. Can you decide?”  
“I mean, I'm really hungry.”  
“You can get food if you want?”  
“Do you want food too? I know you're not eating much still, and don't want you to be sick.”  
“I...don't know?”  
“Oh! How about I take you home? Ladnok and Trugg are on holiday together, which is _great_ because it's just me and Kaleska. Ah! She makes the best brothy-stew thing! I think you'd love it! Also she misses you, and I bet it'd be great for you to catch up!” Shiro blinked at the amount of words. Seeing Kaleska would be nice, though. “Sure, Hepta.” He offered a weak smile, and Hepta gave him a small nod.

 

They stopped a few times on their way back to Hepta and Ladnok's. As he pushed the door open, they found Kaleska waiting, a worried look on her face that only deepened when she saw Shiro. He tensed, and she noticed right away as she moved over, bending down and pushing his hair back. “I'm so sorry that ya haveta undergo all tha' bovas shit. Young master, gemme the blankets.” Shiro watched Hepta give her a salute and scurried off. “Thank you,” Shiro leaned in to her, and Kaleska brought him in, “I know ya pain, Shiro. The young master's been worried about ya.”  
“I heard,” Shiro felt tired, really tired, and watched as Hepta came back with blankets bundled in his arms. “Kaleska I didn't know what one was best, so brought all of them.” Kaleska looked from Hepta to him, and gave his shoulder a prompting squeeze. “Thank you, Hepta.” He allowed her to gently guide him to the sofa. Between them, he was snuggled in a nest of blankets that didn't make him feel suffocated. Kaleska was always genuine, and he sensed the same from Hepta.

 

“Do you want any leaf water?”  
“If that's okay.”  
“Of course it is,” Kaleska rose and stretched, smoothing the dress she wore out. “Shall I have Hepta keep ya company or wouldja like to be alone?”  
“I'm enjoying the company, thank you.” She nodded at him and wandered from the room. He finally looked around, noting that there were more soft things about, like rugs and plants. It looked and felt more like a home, with books and data pads scattered about. By the looks of it, half of Hepta's uniform was slung over the back of a chair. Hepta scratched the back of his head, “yeah, I'm a bit messy when sis is away.”  
“A bit?”  
“Yeah, this isn't even the worst of it. You should see my room-”  
“It's a bloody tip in there!” They heard the shout from the kitchen, and both looked at each other. “I swear she has the room bugged at times,” Hepta whispered, playing with the blanket around Shiro's waist.

 

Kaleska shortly returned with two mugs of tea and handed them in turn to him and Hepta. Hepta stifled a yawn as he blew it, and leaned back into the sofa. “Bad mornin'?”  
“Very. I've never seen the Commander that angry before. He's a bit...scary.”  
“He can be, but he honestly can be really nice too.” Shiro muttered, turning the mug in his hands. The warmth felt nice, and the tea smelt good – fruity, maybe herbal. “Mind me askin' what's happened?” She looked between them and Shiro exhaled sharply. “Things have come to a head. I've been...breaking down. I can't cope any more and verging on a complete collapse.” She blinked at him, before drawing herself in. “I see. Is it the experiments?”  
“Everything, but I think that's been the trigger. They want to weaponise me, but I don't know any more if that's going to happen.” He tapped the mug with his nails, frowning down at them.

 

“I've seen things I shouldn't – no one should. I lost it with Sendak last night,” his frown deepened as he chewed his lip, “I was surprised he didn't lose his shit with me. I was badly behaved.”  
“He's asked after ya a few times, durin' early trainin'. Remember ya first fight with Zestera?”  
“How can I forget?”  
“Was a while afta that. Asked about ya arm.”  
“In what way?” Shiro tilted his head to the side, the Commander had kept that quiet. “Ya. He could tell I had my reservations about it, which I still do,” she motioned to his arm, “'cause she didn't ask him to make it a weapon, she just done it right away. She only does that when she's get designs on somethin'.” Shiro swallowed as he placed the tea on the table. “Why?”  
“She's like this with gladiators, always has been. Collects 'em, plays with 'em. Sorry, it's grim, but someone should tell ya.”  
“So, even if I was dead-”  
“Ya'd not be safe at all. She's a monster, vile. Always bad with livin' ones.”

 

Hepta pushed up from the sofa and forced himself into her lap. She brought him into a tight hug, shushing him. “S'okay, Hepta, I'm not angry atcha.” He glanced up at her, hands shaking, “I've just sat and watched though! Shiro, I'm sorry. After you went and beat Nadiva, which I'm so...grateful for, I go and watch and cut into you.” His pupils dropped down to the floor. “I'm sorry I've been awful.”  
“You've...apologised, Hepta. T-Thank you.” He heard Hepta sniff, and Kaleska propped him back to his feet. “Ya tired and it's been a long quintant, get ya ass to bed, unless ya want me to carry ya again?” She offered an affectionate smile and Hepta nodded slowly, before casting his gaze back over at Shiro. “You mind?”  
“It's been hard, go to sleep.”  
“S-Sorry.” He slowly picked up the tea and waved to them both as he left the room.

 

Shiro sipped his own tea and leaned back. “It's nice.”  
“Iscantian marbaberries; good to destress with.” They sat in silence for a while longer, Shiro glancing over at the plants again. They had big red leaves, that reminded him of autumn back on Earth. He used to like the crunch the leaves would make under his shoes as he walked home from school. “Here, fer ya eyes.” Shiro took the offered tissue and dabbed it against the corners. “Thank you,” he mustered a weak smile as he folded the tissue in his hands.

 

“I think it's time we spoke, slave-ta-slave, experiment-ta-experiment.” She rose cautiously and he watched her move to settle in the large gap beside him. “Ya okay with that, cause I getcha if its raw, just dunno when or if we can again.”  
“I think you may be the only one to understand.”  
“It's somethin' I've held onta with all of ya, every slave I ever met,” she stared at her calloused hands, clenching them tightly into fists, “was lucky, ya know, with their mother, but I still didn't come outta it okay. But ya go first, lemme hear ya story, Shiro,” she turned to him and he looked into her soft gaze. She had an aura about her that made Shiro want to just unload and that if he did, she wouldn't judge him. Right now, that's what he desperately needed. “I guess I should start from the beginning, right?”  
“Start from anywhere ya want to, just don't forget ya leaf-water.” She gently placed the mug back in his hand, and Shiro took a deep breath.

 

-

 

“I believe I owe you an apology.”  
“Regarding what?” Ulaz flicked between the displays as he fished through the notes. Haggar had gone to compile a list of what she wanted to finish doing and Ulaz needed to gather his evidence. Sendak had to be the one to make this decision, and he needed to make an air-tight case to protect Shiro. He watched Sendak from the corner of his eye as he brought himself up from the wall. “For putting so much upon you, and for banning you when perhaps I should not have for interacting with him.”  
“You mean penalising me for leaving marks?”  
“That too. I want to know what happened between you both.” Sendak leaned against the console, and Ulaz studied his features thoroughly for any possible threat. He could find none.

 

“All I did was treat him as equal. He is his own person deserving of a respect he has not been deigned since he came here. We did not start on the best of terms, however he slowly opened up and I just listened to him. In the early phoebs', when you applied the physical and sexual violence to break him, you left me in charge of his care, so the natural associations would occur. As I've always warned you, continued abuse would only lead to disaster,” he slowly raised his head to look at Sendak, “and I fear you listened too late. Both Haxus and I have noted the change in your demeanour around each other, so I am of the opinion that things have settled. To what end, I do not know, for I only know of your plan to repurpose and rebuild him, which frankly I have never fully understood. Why him? His species is relatively unremarkable and there are others who have more physical prowess – that scaly gladiator for starters I could imagine you owning more than Shiro.”

 

“I was asking in regards to the intimacy.”  
“I see. Well in that case it still stands that I treated him as an equal. To you, I suspect it would be unbecoming, however I was thorough enough in making sure his experience was satisfactory, and he mutually obliged.”  
“And in plain Galran, that means what, exactly?”  
“We fucked each other.” Ulaz pulled out his pipe and lit it, taking a sharp inhale. At this point he was expecting a new set of wounds. Sendak pushed himself from the console and tilted his head. “You fucked each other. As in, you let him?”  
“Yes, Commander, that is exactly what I mean.”  
“He's a slave though.”  
“I'm failing to see the point of this, sir. I allowed it and was content.”  
“Socially he is _beneath_ you. I don't understand how you could allow him to...to...” at any other given time, watching the Commander squirm like this would be amusing. It was like watching the little cogs in his head come to a standstill as he tried to contemplate what Ulaz had said. “I allowed him to do so because I offered, and he accepted it with quite some fervour. You need to recall he has had a life prior to us, and may not have received all the time.” He turned his attention back to the notes, copying another paragraph. “As I said, all I did was treat him as an equal and pay him common decency. It was natural progression.”

 

“This is why you were so angry at me, because I treated him as customs dictate?”  
“Yes, but also because of his disposition. He is not so bloodthirsty as you believe him to be. In fact, he is quite passive.”  
“I have observed such behaviour. I have lived with him, after all.”  
“So why have you persisted in changing him?”  
“I have merely offered him a better quality of life. He chose himself to leave his earthly ways behind him and embrace our culture.”  
“But again, does this not fall back to your repurposing?”  
“It does, but in many cases, he has done the 'work' for me. I did not need to make him aware of a broadcast regarding his mission; they are quite cruel about him, claimed it was pilot error.” Sendak noted Ulaz's mouth twitch as if to speak. “Go on, Officer.”  
“I am just surprised you didn't show him.”  
“Perhaps I will one quintant, just to cement that fact. We have spoken, though, before the arena match, and he does not seem to particularly miss his old home.”  
“I find that strange regarding the kit he has spoken about.”  
“I think they are the only thing he may miss, considering I threatened to find the kit and put him through the same tortures as him. He asked – begged actually – for me to give him reason to continue fighting, and this was the best option.” Sendak rolled his shoulders. “I do grant some of his wishes.”  
“It's just a shame that they are so cruel-sounding.”  
“I find you an oddity, you know. Your passiveness makes me wonder how you ended up within the ranks, and even then your file is considerably lacking.”  
“I am just a simple man who came from humble and rather bland beginnings, that is all. We lived in a comfortable part of the Empire, I had no wants.” Ulaz glanced up at the screen again, reading another paragraph. “Sorry, I would like to focus to put forward my case, if you don't mind.”  
“Then I shall leave you to it.”

 

-

 

Shiro rested in Kaleska's lap clutching onto the front of her dress. If he let go for a tick, he was scared he'd spiral and crash. She sat, cradling him in her strong arms. It had taken a while to get it out in the open between sobbing and dry-heaving. She'd remained vigilant and kept up a steady supply of tissues and tea. He had a splitting headache, and sleep was starting to call him even more. “I'm sorry, ya honestly have been through some tough times, Shiro.”  
“Thank you for listening,” he mumbled, wiping his red eyes, “it felt...freeing. It's been...hard to digest any of it. I don't know if what I'm doing is right or wrong any more.”  
“I ask maself the same thing,” Kaleska peered down at him, and he could see the pain in her eyes. “See, I may not've had it as bad as ya, but the Galra took away more then I ever let on,” she let out a dark rumble from her chest, “deca-phoebs of anger an' hatred eventually became acceptance, 'til I got comfortable. Couldn't leave here if I wanted to any more.” She stared up to the ceiling, “guess it's my turn.”  
“W-What did they do to you?”  
“Oh ya know, this and that.” Her lips tugged into a sad smile.

 

“Long time ago, I lived on this little planet. Was nice; rocky terrain, swamps, thic' forests – grea' game ya could cook up nicely. Gods, miss those _trak-schega_ over a nice fire. Weren't advanced as a race, pretty conten' with our nature-lovin' ways an' fearful of the sky gods, ya know? Reckon we pissed 'em off, 'cause one quintant this fuck-off cruiser descends, ya know? Starts blowin' us ta pieces. Then they came on foot, killed a lotta the clan-towns one-by-one. Managed to rally a bunch of clans, but in a movement we were totally fucked. Under-prepared and overwhelmed, we had ta fall back. Customs, if I can remember, dicta'ed we do one last stand, so we did.” She paused, chewing her lip. “My family; kids, siblin's, husband, parents, ya know, the whole fuckin' lot, as well as the a hundred-and-seventy-ish others with me, were defeated. Ma race was a warrior one, like the Galra, find a lotta them out there ya'll notice.

 

So they kill some o' us and spare the others. Old? Dead? Wounded? Dead. Rest of us? Spoils of war. 'Cept _me_. Dumb dreck I was leadin' the charge, gotta audience with the Emperor. Promised me he'd spare ma kids if I became a gladiator wit' grace. So I did what I hadta do to protect 'em, ya know? Couldn't have 'em be...” she paused and took a tissue herself and held Shiro tighter into her chest, “couldn't have 'em be hurt any more then I was made to see. Was a lie. Over time I'd see ma kids with little collars like these around their necks lookin' smaller an' weaker as the phoebs went by. Ya know those parties the Emperor hosts? Saw 'em there too, saw what they were made to do an' I...I lost it one quintant. Been gettin' the rage buildin', attackin' the guards and gettin' myself in shit with mistress. Tried ta escape before then too many times I could count. But nah, that quintant I was the Champion, felt untouchable, an' I jus' _crushed_ this Commander who was takin' my daughter, laughin' about breedin' her like she was some broodmare. Felt so good, ya know? Can still feel his life just driftin' away, but I'd give anythin' to have ma kids back an' well an' happy. Course, ya know the rules about us doin' that shit,” she looked down at Shiro, who nodded in agreement as he listened and repositioned himself to bring her into a hug.

 

“Mistress, she came for me with such a rage. Got these scars here,” she pointed to some old, deep wounds across her chest, part-obscured by the fabric of her dress. “Emperor tried doin' an execution, but bein' Champion an' all that, I was a pure force to be reckoned with. Tried all quintant to throw harder an' harder opponents at me, but it didn't work. Tried again the next quintant, but didn't work. Exhaustin'. Eventually, they gave up, but I realised why soon enough. After more phoebs of fightin', I get this summons to see the Emperor again, so I storm in there ready to hopefully gut him, ya know. Fuckin' drecks sat on his throne with ma girl on his lap, drugged up to the eyeballs. Says he's gonna eliminate my weaknesses, make me more bloodthirsty. He-”  
“Please, don't say it. _Please, you look ready to burst into tears._ ” Shiro gripped her tightly, dabbing at her eyes and smoothing her face. She looked away and nodded slowly. “Was incapacitated by the druids – begged, pleaded, tried to drag ma useless body there...nothin'. He killed her.”  
“I'm sorry.”  
“Not ya fault. Spent more time in the arena; the haze only got worse til I had an opponent that managed ta damage me. Almost died, wanted to, but didn't. Druids had me then. The witch had me. Then I became an subject, and when I met _him_.”  
“Who's him?”  
“Ya medical officer.”  
“But Ulaz is...he's-”  
“Back then he weren't nice at all.” Kaleska rumbled darkly.

 

“Ran the same tests and then some on me as they did ya,” she took Shiro's hands and leaned down, running his human fingers across the back of her skull. “Older techniques, an' they wanted to make me _suffer_ cause the Galra are petty fucks. Got plenty more scars left too.”  
“Didn't they tank you?”  
“Rarely. Ain't ever been collared, so my heal times were always natural. Changed that though. See, ma natural lifespan shoulda had me dead...gods, it's been long. Pretty much, shoulda been dead by seventy deca-phoebs give or take. Galra were testin' quintessence and seein' if it extended other species. Turns out, mine takes to it quite nicely. Increased ma bodies ability to regenerate, but kinda stuck at eternally forty-six. Other thing, I ain't always been this big either, that was a hormone...steroid growth thing. But ya, in a long-term trial ta see how long I can stay alive. Why my eyes go all shiny or glowy at times, I caught ya peekin' before,” she may be smiling but her face was grim, “but nah; _he_ may've changed but I can't forgive what he did.”  
“W-What did he do?” Shiro wasn't sure if his hand was shaking, but he felt like he was.  
“Refused ta comply early on in testin', and turned out ma boy had died – never learned how, never told no matter how much I asked. Ma punishment was bein' forced ta watch them open him up.” She slowly started rocking back and forth with Shiro pressed so tight she could crush him if she wasn't careful. “Ain't ever not seen it in ma dreams, Shiro, never goes away.”

 

“I can't believe he'd – Kaleska, I'm fucking sorry,” Shiro bit into his lip, “I don't understand how he'd-”  
“Don't matter ta me. Was top Technician; commanded total authori'y. The witch was usually out doin' bovas-shit,” she shrugged her shoulders. “Never liked how he moves, too sneaky, quiet, like an assassin. 'ad enough of 'em in ma old life an' here when it came to title matches.”  
“Wait, what?”  
“Ya, was Champion fer a long time. Managed eight deca-phoebs before I almost died in the arena. Most Champion's don't live past two. Was lucky I was retired,” she shifted his weight in her arms, “see, Galra are forever petty an' don't like shit not goin' their way. Thought it was wrong I was still Champion, thought they'd end me. They didn't.”  
“How many others had it?”  
“Mmm, quite a few over the deca-phoebs. Some were successful, others weren't. Those who get found out usually wound up dead, ya know? In ma case, their mother would kill 'em for callin' a hit, cause ya know, their slave code shit an' all.”  
“Thought you had to be collared for all that?”  
“It helps, but nah. Collars are more fer pleasure slaves.” She prodded his collar, “ya and Banlu had it similar with ya owners.”  
“She never said much.”  
“Nah, kept her business to herself.”  
“Were you two...?”  
“Lovers? Ya. Kinda funny a bit, when ya think about our mistresses.” She let her head roll back.

 

“Malvag was her name. Tough ol' _kragna_ if I ever met one. Gave her hell, I did, but she never let 'em have me, not once. She could've, ya know, but it was a punishment she never threatened with, never against me. She told me, only ever once, that it weren't the way ta go, slaves weren't ever befittin' of that fate. Taught her kids that, well, Ladnok taught Hepta, but I reckon cause I raised him that helped too.” She placed him back into the nest of blankets strewn off the side of the sofa. “Leaf water?”  
“Do you want me to make it?”  
“Nah, ya're a guest, can't have that.” She offered him a weak smile and pushed herself up.

 

“Gotta say,” she motioned him to follow, “happy I don't have to be in the arena these days. Gotta lot more violent as it's gone on.”  
“Do you think I'm too violent?” Shiro asked quietly as they came to the kitchen, placing the mugs on the counter. She looked down at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “nah, cause we're there to put on a show, Shiro. Ya make the crowds wild, had to shoo away plenty o' fans who wanted to get a bit too close, ya know.”  
“Seriously?”  
“Ya. Lately ya fights've excited the rabble, which is good for ya. Back in the quintant, I weren't as gory, but painted the arena plenty of colours. May've snapped a few spinal cords too.”  
“I don't think I'd stand a chance against you.”  
“Ya'd do pretty well, but I'd rather not think about tha'. Lost too many frien's an' it's hard.”  
“I haven't had chance to even grieve the others...Zestera.” Shiro looked to his hands, he remembered their expression, the panic, the words they said.  
“Nah, ya haven't. I'm sorry, about wha' happened before the match. Shoulda been better,” her hands dwarfed his shoulders as she gripped him tight, “I'm glad wha' happened to Ranveig.”  
“I am too.”

 

The two waited for the water to boil, and Kaleska quietly made the drinks. They returned to the sofa, and she draped the blankets back over him. It reminded him too much of home, when he was sick or upset, and he found himself wondering how his mother was. They'd been close, but in the past few deca-phoebs before he left for Kerberos, they'd not had time to chat as much. He clenched the blankets tighter as realisation reared its ugly head; they must've reported them dead or MIA or something. She'd be...

 

“Shiro, Shiro what's wrong?”  
“My mum. I just... _she doesn't deserve this_.” He fell into her lap, pulling the blankets up around his face to muffle his sobs. He felt her hand smooth his shoulder slowly as she hushed him, which only made him cry more. “She'll think I'm dead, Kaleska. I never got to see her before I left. I had to leave a _voicemail_ for her!” Kaleska didn't say anything but just continued to stroke and hush him softly.

 

-

 

Haggar stared at her list. There was still work to be done – too much – but she _needed_ to do this. She tapped her claws over the table, glaring down against its shiny black surface. The problem came with the two of them having _feelings_ for the slave, and she could only push Sendak's buttons so much. She had to have him on her side. Ulaz was passive and would look for the route of least resistance, but he was too patient and knew how to bide his time. However the calm persona he carried had been starting to splinter at the seams, and if she had to, she would call his loyalty to the Empire into question; that usually made officers squirm.

 

She pushed her hood back, running a hand through her hair. If Sendak hadn't approached the Emperor, she could have demanded they ask him to mediate. These mentorships always got in the way of things, and even if it was over, the Emperor had a frustrating soft spot for Sendak. He may be hard on him, but if she was in his position, his failures would have seen him executed long ago. The way he had _spoken_ to her as well had her back up. She narrowed her eyes, digging her nails against the metal. He would pay for such insubordination one way or another.

 

-

 

“Kaleska?”  
“Ya?” She peered down into his red eyes.  
“I don't think I'm a good person any more.”  
“In what way?”  
“The arena...accepting to stay here and become a weapon, giving up on bits of myself to achieve that. I don't know if that's right to do. I feel it is, but also know it isn't. Dunno if that makes sense?” He looked up at her and she sighed, scratching the back of his head slowly. “Shiro, ain't anythin' ya can do here as a slave that'll be right. Ya just gotta survive. We're both murderers, both let shit happen, monstas in our own right.”  
“How're you-”  
“I don't just hold the title I do 'cause I did so well in the arena, Shiro.” She bit her lip. “Ta survive here I had ta...make compromises of ma own, ya know? Eh, course ya do.” She waved her hand dismissively at herself, “afta I managed to buy one of ma kids freedom, I had ta agree on one thing; train and watch all new gladiator candidates, feed back to the druids. I'd getta list of who they want, work tha' way. All bodies – warm or cold – I give ta them. Do I hate maself? Ya, I do. Would I do it again if ma kids could be alive and free? Ya, I would. Barginin' with 'em is like signin' ya life away, if you had one to begin with here.” She snorted, petting a little harder.

 

“I can't judge ya, and I doubt ya'd judge me either. All I can say is ya can 'ventually learn to sleep better – it takes a lotta time. I...distract maself – threw it inta carin' fer Hepta. I spoil 'im cause I ain't gonna be havin' any more kids – sterile thanks to _him_ as well – but cause I genuinely love him. At first? So many thoughts – bad ones, real bad. But he was a babe...kay he's still a babe, but 'ventually I got maself outta that terrible mindset. Ya gonna change, we all do an' have, but it's safer, gets ya to a position ta at least look afta the newer ones.”  
“Slaves?”  
“Ya. We don't lead pretty lives, ain't gonna get ourselves anywhere cryin' about it, not that this is wrong, but,” she scrubbed at her face, uncertain how exactly she could explain. It'd been a long time since she'd been back in these boots, and she wondered, honestly, if she was being too miserable, “tryin' ta fight it gets too much, an' ya won't win. I ain't the best at advice, but surrender. 'specially in ya boots, cause they'll just keep takin' and takin' an' it'll be by force. They'll steal death from ya, so ya don't even get that luxury. Nothin' here's sacred, not to the witch anyway. Seen it for hundreds of deca-phoebs. Seen plenty of Nadiva's an' Zestera's...seen all of ya. It cycles, Shiro-”  
“Like a wheel?”  
“Exactly.”

 

“Kaleska?”  
"Ya?”  
“Can ya promise no matter what we can still be friends?”  
“So long as ya never hurt Hepta.”  
“You mean his arm?”  
“I mean bein' awares. Ya ever purposefully hurt 'im, and ya'll feel ma unbridled rage.” He nodded into her chest and she let out a small rumble. “If I ever care about anything as much as you do Hepta, the same applies.” He chuckled into her stomach and she laughed, “just what I expect, _Champion_.”  
“I can't wait to come back to the arena.”  
“Ya, got ta meet some new candidates. Seem alrigh', but will need to watch 'em.”  
“I can help you, if you want and I'm allowed.”  
“I'd like that, an'll ask Ladnok later.”

 

“You know, this hasn't been the talk I was expecting,” Shiro pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes, “I was expecting this sage advice about not giving up on your principles and morals, stuff like that.” He cast her a weak smile, “I think I've always seen you as strong, unbreakable in resolve, but I guess if they can break you, they can break anyone.”  
“Even Zestera broke, so much as they never admitted it. They came to us later, real angry soul. But ahh, ya too hopeful abou' me. I ain't anythin' special, just a woman tryin' ta just get by. Made many mistakes, many I expect ta be judged for when I get ta die, but,” she shrugged her shoulders, “if I getta choice, I'd let ma gods fragment ma soul. Dust ta the winds.”  
“You're really bleak.”  
“Ya, depends on what day ya catch me on,” she laughed and looked at the time. “Another drink, I reckon. Ya can help me make lunch-”  
“I can't cook for shit.”  
“Well, betta teach ya if ya don't want the Commander gettin' pissed off.”  
“He actually cooks really well...kinda prefers me to just not touch anything.” He smirked at Kaleska who just blinked at him. “Well _bugger_ me!” She brought her hand to her mouth, and rose from the sofa, stretching her muscles. “Never would've though' it.”  
“Thought what?”  
“Doesn't matter. Just losta bet, that's all.” She smirked as she wandered off, Shiro following in hot pursuit requesting clarity.

 

-

 

“The only test I will allow is the drugs test in case of poisoning, but _only_ those that are not natural to his planet.” Sendak muttered as he poured over the display, then turned and tapped out some quick notes for himself. He glanced up at Haggar, who merely nodded in reply. “My stance remains that it is practical to continue with augmentation as originally planned. If it pleases you, he will not be lucid for almost all procedures.”  
“You still aren't addressing the problem of his mental health.”  
“Then I will administer the medication myself.” She glared at Ulaz, daring him to suggest she wouldn't.

 

“We are not going to continue in circles. Both cases have their merits, however I wish to be alone. He has his execution match tomorrow with that treasonous Marmora dreck, and I will be keeping him in my sight this evening.” Sendak looked between the two of them and they briskly nodded as they rose from their chairs. He watched them leave and let out a long sigh as he leaned back in his chair. It was all a headache having to think about this, and he regretted agreeing to this whole thing to begin with at times. However, his regrets were based in personal biases. Clarity and objectivity was what he needed, and what his Emperor had told him.

 

He couldn't remain on Central Command because of work, and he couldn't take Champion with him either, even for short bursts. He could leave him in the labs, but that was counter-intuitive to what he wanted and his principles – which slave or not – he had always been set in. Additionally, if he was to neglect Champion it would backfire ultimately in his face. They would remain at odds until one of them did something stupid, and at this point it was likely Champion. No, there was too much risk to leaving him here, but he could not be left alone. His options reduced again to the only two Galra he could realistically trust with him. The Emperor would be better with repurposing, however it was unlikely he would allow Champion his moods. It was...very unlikely. Ulaz was close and could manage him and do all the medical things he needed, however his concern laid with the lack of discipline and boundaries, as well as his questionable 'humour' regarding the Empire. Of course then there was their closeness to factor, and it made Sendak feel uneasy. Then again, Haggar said she could apply conditioning while he was sedated. More underhanded then he would prefer, but at least Champion didn't need to constantly be awake.

 

There was a lot to consider – too much – and he was torn over honouring what his slave had requested. He was right; it all pertained to him, and he knew himself the best out of all of them.

 

-

 

Ulaz found a quiet room. As he locked the door, he just slid down to the floor, resting his head in his hands. _He didn't need any more pain_. He'd messaged Thace in code over the Marmora agent that was set for execution. They needed to secure a way out for them, they couldn't risk losing another member. It wouldn't be easy, and he was worried that they may end up getting caught, but it was what they had to do. Thace had plans in place for such events; in-part because he lived here, but also from seducing his way into key targets' beds. Ulaz closed his eyes; out of the two of them, Thace was better-suited to seduction missions and postings, because he could just so easily pull information from others right under their noses.

 

The quintant couldn't get any worse then what had become a living nightmare for the past gods-knew how many movements.

 

-

 

“I've made my decision.” Sendak's tone was even as he looked between Haggar and him. Ulaz could feel the fur on the back of his neck stand up and his stomach knot tighter. “He will not be staying in the labs-”  
“ _What?-_ ”  
“However augmentation and my other request will still go ahead after his last test is done in two quintants' time. He will be purged of what he requested. He will be on medication,” Sendak gave a curt nod to Ulaz, “and will receive the assistance he requires to strengthen his mental fortitude. We cannot have an unruly weapon. Ulaz,” his body became rigid as Sendak took slow steps over, towering over him as he looked down, “I can allow Champion to stay with you, if that is acceptable?”  
“Y-Yes, Commander.” This was something he now had to relay to Thace. _Fuck_. It was going to make seeing his lover much more difficult, and he'd become far too reliant on Thace as of late.

 

“He will be reviewed as appropriate, and he will receive breaks. However, the worth to the Empire is too great.” Sendak moved away, arms behind his back, “and when I return to Central, he will be in my company for the duration. Is that understood?” Sendak's ears pricked as they both agreed. This had gone much more amicably than he originally thought it would, which suited him fine. “I will be leaving again after the arena match tomorrow. You will be able to attend to him?”  
“Yes, Commander, providing the High Priestess has no use for me during the day-cycle.”  
“See to Champion as you please.” She replied, turning towards the door. “I have things to plan for – see if I can bring the period down.” With that, she left the room, leaving Sendak with the silent Galra.

 

“Speak, Officer.”  
“I,” Ulaz stared to the ground, narrowing his eyes, “I'm still not certain about the purging.”  
“Champion made his choice.”  
“No, you made that for him.”  
“He is to be weaponised.”  
“I just hope you know what you're doing, Commander, I really do. If you'll excuse me, I need to research and look at medication options.”  
“Of course,” Sendak waved his hand and Ulaz took his leave. He stood in the empty room, staring at the door for a few ticks. He found himself hoping that he did know what was best.

 

-

 

The guard would be out for a varga, which was plenty of time. The two figures moved cautiously through the hallway; Thace pausing every-so-often to check the feeds, or make sure the loop was still running. Even if they were doing fine going about undetected, Ulaz was scared. He was scared for Thace, for his brother or sister, for the rest of the Blades and of course, Shiro. If he was exposed, Shiro'd be interrogated.

 

“You could have stayed home.”  
“No, I have to come, you know that.” Ulaz whispered, even though they were fine. “Are the bombs planted?”  
“Of course.”  
“Flash grenades?”  
“On my person.” Thace paused and went rigid as they turned the corner to the cell. “What the fuck did they do to him?” The growl was a harsh one as Thace powered forwards, grabbing the bars. “Brother?” He rattled them.

 

The Galra groaned as he cracked an eye open, slowly pushing himself up as he looked between them both. “B-Brothers?” His voice was barely audible and hoarse, his fur matted and blood-covered. He was missing an eye, and one of his ears had been cut off – the other ripped. From the way he walked, Ulaz had a terrible feeling he wasn't just nursing broken ribs.  
“Y-Yeah,” Thace answered, pushing his gloved hand through the bars. “We're here for you-”  
“Kill me. I'm no use like this to the cause-”  
“We can't just kill you!” Thace hissed, “we can heal you, get you in a better shape, send you away.”  
“I don't have my blade any more; it's been taken, on the station I was based at. I...please, grant me this mercy.” He dropped down to his knees, coughing blood to the floor. He doubled over, his coughing intensifying. “Got...assaulted earlier...too fucked.” On unsteady arms, he tried to pull up from before falling flat down.

 

“There's wounds that I can't heal with what I have on me. All it'd do would prolong his death.” Ulaz moved forward carefully and placed the guard's ID card to the door. He settled down before the broken man who panted heavily against the floor. “You would have us kill you?”  
“I'd rather die...at the hands of one of us. I won't be...made into a spectacle for 'em.” He glanced up at Ulaz, moving his hand to rest on his thigh. “You can tell. Jus...lemme rest?” Ulaz lifted his masked face to Thace, who'd settled opposite him.

 

“He won't last.”  
“This is so wrong.”  
“I know.” Ulaz resigned himself to lifting the dead weight of his brother. Thace moved and straightened out the thin, ragged sheet, and tried to make it as comfortable as possible as Ulaz laid the body down. He rooted through his utility belt and pulled out a small case. Disengaging the mask, Thace followed suit as the two settled beside their brother. They each took a hand and gently soothed him to a calmer place.

 

“This will first take away your physical pain, then you'll start to feel like you're entering sleep. From there, your body will naturally shut down. The memories will purge themselves so they can't scavenge your brain.”  
“Thank you.”  
“No, thank you for your service to the Blade of Marmora. You've helped us in our fight against the Empire, and your death will not be in vain, brother.”  
“Korag, name's Korag.” He licked his lips.  
“When did you join?” Thace clasped his hand tighter, bringing Korag's attention to him. Ulaz pulled out what he needed and found a major artery. His eyes grew dark as he steadied his hand and pressed it against the skin. “For knowledge or death.” Ulaz's eyes flickered closed as the other two replied, and he held Korag's hand tighter.

 

-

 

The two returned to Thace's apartment later, having to hide for much longer than they were expecting. As they got in, they removed their Empire-issue armour and left it dumped in a heap on the floor. Thace flopped down, eyes boring holes into the ground as he fiddled with his fingers. Ulaz perched next to him, taking his hand. “It was the only way.”  
“I know.”  
“It's been an awful quintant.” Ulaz pulled Thace into his chest, and they remained that way until Ulaz realised that he could hear Thace snoring at one point. He stroked his dark fur, taking a long inhale. “I love you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna look to finish chapter 4 of In Your Gravity and perhaps lay some groundwork for a VERY bleak Emperor Sendak idea I had, which is honestly going to just be three chapters of fucking misery if I could be so blunt. I've been getting a lot of ideas lately, and I have a Zardak idea I'm kicking about. I'm still going to work on this chapter, and I have more time next week to play around with, but I just need to vent out a few things before they overtake my mind.
> 
> But yeah, it's gonna be interesting to see how that goes down next chapter, and my oh my, what will Haggar do to our poor boy? Expect a bit of smut next chapter and MAYBE some Sharkon.
> 
> Til the next time, my lovelies!


	42. Transmutation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it's taken - wanted to vent stuff out because this has been an utter bitch of a chapter to write. Also it's not a particularly light chapter either, which I would argue is even worse. I'm adding the dead dove tag to this fic after I update, because this chapter....fucking needs it. 
> 
> There's porn this chapter: Zardak and Shendak of course, and my god you get the hint of Uliro. Aside from that...urgh. Heavy chapter. We see some A+ manipulation from Sendak this chapter and oh my gOD it is twisted what he is justifying. As a note, the author /does not justify what is being said/ but I cannot write this through implication, it's not viable and would lose meaning. Pretty much, I'd argue this chapter sits more on the 'realistic' side.
> 
> Please take breaks if you need it.
> 
> But thank you all once again for your lovely comments and kudos. I'm always excited to hear where you think this is going ;)

“Please forgive my intrusion, Emperor, however there is an urgent message I need to relay to you.” The guard may as well be laid upon the floor with how low he bowed. Zarkon released a guttural rumble as he pushed the concubine from his lap. “Then relay the message.”  
“Y-Yes, of course. A varga ago, the prisoner – the captured Blade of Marmora agent – was found dead.” They visibly tensed even though he wasn't looking at Zarkon, nor when he rose from the chair. “What did you say?”  
“They were fou-”  
“I heard what you said!” Zarkon grabbed them by the throat and lifted them from the floor. “How did this happen? What of the guards? The security footage?” The guard struggled to speak and Zarkon snarled, dropping the dreck to the ground.

 

“T-The footage shows nothing out of the ordinary, Sire!”  
“Why has it taken a _varga_ to let me know?”  
“I-I was told to wait until the body had been taken for autopsy! My superior told me-”  
“Who is your superior?”  
“Commander Grelag, Sire.” Zarkon nodded as he took a step forward.  
“Your weakness disgusts me.” With no wasted movement, he grabbed the guard by the throat and crushed his windpipe. He left the room, tasking the guard at the door to dispose of the body as she saw fit. The arena would see blood one way or another.

 

-

 

The vibrating stirred Sendak from his dozing. His ear tensed, then flicked, as he groped blindly behind him, lest he disturb Champion who was pressed firmly against his chest with one arm strewn over his side by his own volition. He'd found Champion wrapped in blankets leaning against Hepta yester-quintant. On further questioning, it turned out Hepta had been telling him about his time before he became a soldier. Sendak could barely remember his early quintants, except that he had one General who oversaw their firearms training that did not like him. He felt the back of his head twinge, remembering the feel of the muzzle pressed at the base of his skull. He may not fear death, but he did fear for his life in that moment because of the suddenness. Regardless, it was good that Champion had company that would assist in his indoctrination – aware or not.

 

He groaned as he unlocked the communicator and scanned the message. Sendak paused, shifting up as he read it again. How could the prisoner be dead? They didn't leave him in a critical condition. Judging from the spelling mistakes, the Emperor was in a foul mood, and by the looks of it, he was required to placate him. He paused before replying as he glanced down at Champion's dark hair. He somewhat wished the Emperor had contacted him later, because he was quite fond of the small furnace attached to him, and now he had to disturb that.

 

“Champion,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing him gently over onto his back. Champion's brow twitched, then again as he grunted and whined. “Champion, wake up.”  
“'uck orf,” he was amusing to watch as he pathetically batted his arm towards Sendak, who caught it with ease. If he wouldn't wake to gentle coaxing, no one could say he hadn't tried. Sendak took Champion's semi-hard erection in his hand and gave it a squeeze. That seemed to do the trick as his eyes snapped open.

 

“The Emperor has summoned me. I will be back before you need to go to the arena.”  
“Why?”  
“The prisoner was found dead just over a varga ago.”  
“It's _early_.”  
“I am aware, Champion; I would rather be asleep as well. Rest; you will have a fight on your hands-”  
“But the prisoner's dead. Wait, they're dead?”  
“The Emperor has found replacements to fight,” Sendak chuckled as Shiro gave a throaty growl and rolled over. “So long as I have something to fight...lookin' forward to,” he yawned and got more comfy, “smash.”  
“You will.” Sendak pulled him back over and gave his forehead a lick, then his mouth. Shiro opened his eyes, glaring up at him. He grabbed the fur either side of his cheeks and yanked his head down into a rough kiss. Sendak tensed, but seemed to relax out quick enough. “That's how you kiss someone. No lick.” Shiro muttered up at him. Sendak merely purred in response as he pulled at the tip of Shiro's dick piercing. “I think you will enjoy later.”  
“Probably.” Shiro rolled over again and Sendak ruffled his hair before getting up.

 

-

 

Sendak shrieked as the electricity jolted against his prostate. Zarkon chuckled in his ear as he continued to palm at his cock, occasionally digging his teeth into his shoulder again. Another surge against his inner thighs had him bucking his hips, falling forward in the chains that held his arms above his head as he shook and panted. “Is this too much?” Zarkon trailed his clawed hand down his cock and stroked his balls, which was then followed by another shock to his prostate before Sendak could answer. “N-No,” he managed to grit out, ignoring the spots in his vision. His voice cracked when the ring finally came to life and he almost came there and then.

 

“It pleases me you answered my call.” Zarkon ran his hand up Sendak's back, mussing up the fur. He went to speak but made a sharp hiss as he tensed. “O-Of course, E-Emperor!” His voice pitched as his body shook. “Such a loyal subject,” Zarkon mused, roughly petting the side of his head, “which is why you have my trust.”  
“I live to serve you, Emperor,” the chains rattled as Sendak jerked again. Zarkon let out a small rumble.

 

“There are likely agents on Central Command. I will task Commanders Trugg and Gnov with overseeing their exposure.” Zarkon slipped a hand around his neck and tightened his grip as he fondled him further. Sendak groaned, bucking his hips into the touch. “But do not worry, Sendak, for I will certainly allow you to interrogate them again.” The hold tightened, and he felt his vision start to spot again. It all felt far too good.

 

Eventually the equipment was removed and Zarkon fucked him into the floor, pulling his legs up to rest on his shoulders. Sendak snarled out as every thrust struck his prostate with increasing force. Zarkon growled above him, grabbing and tugging at his ear again. “Who are you loyal to, Commander Sendak?” Sendak let out a strained growl, blood pumping in his ears, cock twitching as it neared breaking point. “You, Emperor!”  
“Then let me reward your loyalties.” With a few more thrusts, Zarkon's body tensed and he let out a content rumble. Sendak closed his eye as he felt the warmth spread inside him; pain offset by the quintessence that was so potent from all the infusions the Emperor required. Claws gripped his own leaking erection and in a few ticks he came over his stomach.

 

Slowly, they separated. Zarkon pulled Sendak from the floor and closed his eyes. “Tell me why you allowed Champion to use the sword.”  
“I,” Sendak glanced to his Emperor, who side-eyed him carefully, “I allowed him to use it because I trust him,” he narrowed his eye at the floor, “and he was having reservations as to whether he would live. Since he seeks my approval, I thought it best to prompt him with something I held dearly.”  
“I see.” Zarkon shifted his weight and Sendak fiddled with his claws. “It displeased you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then,” Sendak swallowed, “what punishment is required?”  
“None. My only question is this: what is Champion to you?” Zarkon brought his gaze firmly to Sendak, who sat up straighter, staring right back. “He is a pet I am rather fond of, I must admit. However, he is a slave and will be weaponised for the Empire. I know this has not changed, nor will it.”  
“Do you recall our conversation phoebs' ago regarding Haxus?”  
“Yes, Sire. That is what I consider. If I ever had to kill him, Champion, then it would be done if you ordered so.”  
“I see,” Zarkon rose and offered Sendak a hand.

 

-

 

“Commander looks a bit off, ya know?” Kaleska squinted after Sendak, then back down at Shiro. He nodded, ruffling the back of his hair. “Yeah. The Emperor summoned him really early this morning. You know the guy I was supposed to be executing?”  
“Ya, murdered apparen'ly.”  
“That's news to me.”  
“Ya, they reckon it was the Blades of Marmora, may have 'em on Central.”  
“What do you think of them?” Shiro muttered. Kaleska shifted on her feet, armour creaking, before guiding him away “parta me agrees, parta me wonders what the fuck they've been doin' for thousands of deca-phoebs. You ain't heard anythin' though.”  
“Of course, I mean,” Shiro rolled his shoulders, “I would _never_ agree with it.” Kaleska gave a throaty rumble in return and ruffled his hair. “Course ya wouldn't, not the Galra way, right?”

 

They waited and watched as the door started to open and Kaleska patted his shoulder. “Give 'em a bloody show.”  
“I know, Kaleska,” he let his arm activate and gave her a warm smile, “I've got movements worth of anger to work out.” She watched him stalk out onto the sands, the cheers of the crowds hitting a high as he became visible to them. She sighed, leaning against the door frame as he came to a stop and brought himself into a fighting stance. It was good he could at least vent his rage out here, just so long as he kept it to the arena, she couldn't see anything wrong with using it as a coping mechanism. She'd be a hypocrite if she thought otherwise.

 

The guards on duty would be first and then it would move up to the Commander. She watched this guard, a rather round Galra, struggle against him. This is what happened when they became fat and content within the safety of Central Command; with no real threat, soldiers became dull like swords and axes. Against the gladiators, well, what chance did they really have? She smiled as Shiro's arm left curved trails of light in its wake, blood splattering over the sands. He'd gotten much better using it, and when he wasn't having a completely feral quintant, she'd argue he looked elegant like a dancer with how he moved about the sand. Quietly, she prayed that with whatever they removed from him with purging, it wouldn't upset his character too much. She let up a mighty roar when he threw the guard clean over his shoulder.

 

-

 

“I thought we had to go to the labs?” Shiro grabbed at Sendak's organic wrist but he pulled it away, snaking his hand around the back of his head. The gauntlet's claws held his body in place as Sendak nuzzled into his nape. “Not for a while, besides,” he trailed his tongue over Shiro's bloody jawline, “you preformed _very well_ again, and I feel that should be rewarded.” Teeth pressed against the bone and Shiro groaned, closing his eyes as the claws dug deeper into his skull. He cracked one eye open; Keith was still stood there wide-eyed, glancing between Sendak and him. Shiro couldn't look at him. _Please, just go away. Not now, I don't want you to see this._

 

“Shiro, this isn't right.” Keith growled, moving forward. Shiro screwed his eyes shut as he tried to press his face into Sendak. “ _Don't._ ”  
“Don't what, Champion?” His face was roughly brought up and he stared into the golden and orange-red eyes. His gaze moved from Keith to Sendak to his armour. “Just not now.”  
“Why?” The pressure on his face increased, and in defeat, Shiro pointed to his right. Sendak followed the finger to Keith, then back again. “There is no one but us here.”  
“He looks real.” The pressure released and Sendak brushed the back of his hand over his cheek. “It is not there. Do not fear the phantoms.”  
“I don't fear them, I just...not in front of him.”  
“Is this one the kit?”  
“Yes, Commander.” Shiro swallowed, bowing his head down. Sendak pulled away.

 

“Follow, Champion.” He clicked his claws and Champion seemed to snap out of his trance as he followed at his heels. The quicker he was on medication, the better. “Describe to me what you see at present.” He listened as Champion described exactly what was in front of him, ears twitching at every small pause and tone. He quickly changed his prosthetic, and they moved to the bathroom, he locked the door after Champion came through and moved to the shower. “Strip and get under the water.”  
“Yes, Commander.” Sendak watched him remove the armour painfully slowly. He pulled his own off, and then moved to Champion, pushing the material down to his hips. “Has it followed?” There was a pause as Champion glanced slowly around the room. “No, why?”

 

His answer was a metal hand around his stomach and fingers pressing under his shoulder blades. Shiro yelped as they teased the knotted muscle and jerked. “Champion,” the whispered name was almost inaudible against the rush of the water, but Shiro couldn't contain the small whine he made, “so much as I may not mind fucking you in front of an audience,” Sendak pressed the muscle harder, “I accept the visions you see cause distress.”  
“So,” Shiro let himself rest against the hand holding him, “you're being mindful.”  
“I suppose.”  
“Thank you, Commander.” Shiro clutched at his prosthetic and Sendak mad a low purr in his ear, giving it a reassuring lick.

 

Sendak eased him out of his clothes and finished undressing himself, before leading him under the water. “If he wasn't there,” Shiro called up over the noise, “I'd be fine.”  
“I know.” Sendak swiped his hair away, rubbing the dried blood in circles against his forehead. “There are always other times.”  
“Yeah,” Shiro gave him a weak smile. “I just...need to be on the meds.”  
“You will soon enough, and you will be in good hands.”  
“I'm surprised you're letting me stay with him.”  
“I was wrong to take that from you,” Shiro frowned up at him and tilted his head, “it was pettiness on my part, but you may continue to partake if you desire.” Sendak added, glancing away.

 

He winced as Champion placed his hands on his hips, still sore from earlier. Sendak brought him round and Champion placed his hands on his chest. “Things happened and developed but I,” he pressed himself against Sendak, “know I belong to you in my entirety.” He dropped down to his knees and brought his arm across his chest. “You are my Commander and my master, and you have my loyalty.”  
“Rise, Champion.” He did as commanded, and Sendak leaned down, bringing him into a kiss. Champion let himself be pulled closer, let his hands move over his body. He rubbed at the nipple piercings, feeling them grow harder under his touch. Champion whined into his mouth, trying to push back against Sendak's tongue. It was futile, but still drew a small chuckle from the depths of his throat.

 

Champion shortly returned to his knees, taking Sendak in his mouth. He purred as he inched in, Champion watching him under thick eyelashes every-so-often as he licked and sucked. Sendak smoothed the wet hair back, the white strands creating a wonderful contrast. So much as he had his preferences and enjoyed a compliant Champion, a content and compliant Champion was better to be around. He pushed himself further in, feeling the sharp teeth press against the ridges. “Such a good boy.”

 

Soon enough, Shiro was pressed up against the cold wall. He hissed at the temperature shift, pushing as much of himself away from it. Sendak chuckled in his ear as he teased his entrance. He moaned, feeling the saliva run from the corner of his mouth as he canted backwards. “So you did want it?”  
“I just finished in the arena and usually do.” He called back, breath hitching at every curl and thrust of the fingers inside him. The collar was removed and placed down, and then Shiro felt the tongue run over his neck, teeth brushing and nipping at the skin. He swore, pushing back into the fingers and feeling his own cock twitch and twinge for attention.

 

Sendak removed his fingers and slowly eased himself in, Champion moaning and keening as every ridge filled him slowly. His purr intensified, grazing his teeth over the bite marks, before clamping down. Champion cried out, pushing himself against Sendak. He brought his prosthetic round, holding him in place and grabbing his cock, giving it a sharp tug. Champion clamped down around him, his scent picking up in the way that it did. Sendak gave a throaty growl as he tasted blood, but thrust into him nonetheless. He was such a good slave; the best one he ever had regarding _this_ aspect. Certainly not the most well-behaved, but a good challenge. Human complexity was a curious thing and perhaps required some further reading when he was back out in space.

 

-

 

“Why is he blindfolded?”  
“We had an issue regarding hallucinations before we left. He asked for it.” Sendak replied stiffly as he set Champion down. Haggar clicked her tongue as she pointed to the table. “He will need to go there and be strapped in. I imagine he will writhe and lash out if he is not secured.”  
“Understood.”  
“Do you have the list of things you wanted purged?”  
“Yes,” Sendak brought out his datapad and tapped it a few times before handing it to her. She took it, scanning the request. “I understand. This will take several vargas – maybe more.”  
“That is fine. I will stay with him until you are complete.” Sendak glanced up as he set the energy cuffs in place. Haggar didn't respond and moved towards them, taking a look over Champion. “I will work each point separately.”  
“As you wish, Haggar.”  
“Know I do not know what this will do to him,” she eyed him carefully and Sendak gave a curt nod in return. “No one does, but it is as he requested. What good is a weapon that has qualms of killing?” Her response was a sharp sniff as Haggar moved to the top of the table, pressing her hands against his head. Sendak settled besides Champion, smoothing his chest. “I will not leave you until this is done, do you understand?” He watched as Champion licked his lips and nodded. “Yes, Commander.” Sendak glanced up to Haggar and she leaned down. “This is going to be painful. Do try not to scream.” Energy crackled around her hands as she pressed her finger tips against his temples.

 

Shiro screamed as she ripped his mind wide open.

 

-

 

“So what was purged?” Ulaz leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. Sendak pushed the datapad towards him and he gave it a quick read. He frowned and tapped the pad. “I recall Shiro requesting to rid himself of the moral conflict he had around killing, however these two, these two seem incredibly self-serving.”  
“To rid him of the mentality that all life is equal assists with the issues around killing, and we both know that it is not. You forget that we live in a society where droids are worth more than those we subjugate. That, and it can help remind him of his place when he steps out of line. The other, well we all learned by pain, yes?”  
“Yes,” Ulaz knew what was coming, but that wasn't to say he liked it considering the memories it dredged up. “Well, he is better about accepting punishments now, but just solidifying he should not fear but embrace it. It will be better for him in the long run.” Sendak sounded so convinced it was the right course of action that Ulaz just couldn't muster a reply. To be _that ignorant_ was beyond him and he just couldn't grasp it.

 

“It is like you're chancing flying near a supernova, Commander.”  
“In what sense?”  
“The possible long-term effects this will have on him. How do you know it won't backfire in your face? What if he just winds up relearning it again and again?”  
“Is this an argument about nature versus nurture?”  
“I suppose it is,” Ulaz sat up straighter, “because you can keep purging him, but eventually you will hit the point where you may as well start from a blank slate.”  
“You refer to the clones Haggar mentioned she could make?”  
“Yes and no. If you purged everything, I think you would mentally kick yourself, because he wouldn't be himself any longer.”  
“No, which is why I aim to make sure it sticks the first time around.” Sendak leaned back in his chair with a smirk on his lips.

 

“Let me guess? Pro-Empire information?” Ulaz watched Sendak's smirk grow wider. “I see, and you are wishing for me to engage in this as well, I presume?”  
“I do not know if you realise, Officer, but your tone is not the best-placed right now considering the possibility of that agent being murdered by other Marmora agents.” Sendak tilted his head, “do not give me reason to suspect you.”  
“My apologies, Commander. I just sound sharp because of my concerns regarding the purge. You recall my opinions on it?”  
“I do, but be wary of how you speak about the Empire. Commanders Gnov and Trugg will be overseeing the sweep of Central Command, and the Emperor has requested my skills for interrogation again.”  
“I imagine he did,” Ulaz kept his voice as even as he could, scratching at his cheek. To keep up appearances, him and Thace had watched the execution. It was a much better fate for Korag to die by the needle then have Shiro tear him apart, but having the confirmation that Sendak was definitely involved made his blood run cold.

 

“I heard they are running the autopsy?”  
“Yes. The Druids are doing a thorough sweep of the body,” he leaned in, voice hushed as if they could hear him, “allegedly his memory has been completely wiped. Haggar is livid.”  
“Is there something which can do that?” Ulaz blinked as he tilted his head, “I mean, on the dead. I can't think of anything off the top of my head.”  
“They are uncertain, but you have to admit, it is quite a clever way to stop your enemies from pulling intelligence from their corpses.”  
“I suppose it is. If you can find out what they use, can you let me know? I can research it in my spare time. Perhaps you could suggest it to the Emperor, or a way to reverse it can be found?”  
“I am impressed, but agree. Fine, I will find out for you and let you know.” Sendak gave him a nod and checked his communicator.

 

“How long has he been out for?”  
“It's now been just over three vargas.” Sendak scratched at his ear, wrinkling his brow. “He was in intense pain and I had to call Haggar off a few times.”  
“Were my notes ignored?”  
“I presume so.”  
“Was he sick?”  
“Yes. It was unpleasant to witness.”  
“Well, when I was going through his memories, the same issues arose,” Ulaz shifted in the seat, “this was also why I was concerned.”  
“He wanted it done, and I listened to his request.”  
“Still, I hope it was the right choice; for his sake more than yours. As has been said, as an alien we have subjugated, he sits below droids, and considering how they are used as cannon fodder, well.” Ulaz shrugged his shoulders. “I just wish the Empire could be better then what it is at times; we have assimilated so many cultures, yet remain so rigidly set in ways that are millennias-old they no longer have a bearing on the modern Empire.” Ulaz sighed and Sendak merely looked away.

 

“Going back, I would like you to teach him Galran ways. The Emperor will also likely help – he is still at his call.”  
“I see. Regarding the Emperor's summons, what should I expect generally?”  
“He will likely come back with cuts and bruises. I would like to assume further damage will not be an issue.”  
“He hasn't marked him yet like you and Haxus?”  
“No.” Sendak growled. Ulaz nodded slowly. _That was at least a positive._ “However.” _Why was there always a 'however'?_ “He has yet to request him after the Yastara incident.”  
“I thought he would of by now?”  
“It perplexes me as well,” Sendak's eyes focused on the desk, “however he has his reasons, and that is that.” Ulaz nodded slowly; there was something that never sat right with how the Commander was so blind to the Emperor. Even Haxus was not this blindly devoted to Sendak. “Regardless, upon my return I will also be reaffirming Galran standards with him to see where he is at.”  
“Of course, Commander.”

 

The two remained in discussion for another half a varga until there was a knock at the door. Sendak called for them to enter, and Shiro wandered in. He looked paler than normal; a thin sheen of sweat over his brow. He looked between the two and moved to Sendak, who gave him a small pat, allowing him to climb into his lap. “Your skin is cold.” Sendak pulled the usual robe up and rubbed his human arm carefully. Shiro mumbled something and nuzzled into his neck, eyes vacant like he wasn't all there.

 

“Shiro,” Ulaz asked gently, “how are you feeling?” He watched him slowly tilt his head, blinking at him a few times. “Uh,” his pupils darted around as his brow furrowed, “I can't describe it. Pain? Light hurts. Everything feels jambled- I mean jumbled.”  
“Can you tell us where you are?”  
“The Commander's office.”  
“And do you know who we are?”  
“Yeah, you're Ulaz, and this is the Commander, and I'm Shiro, or Champion.” Both Ulaz and Sendak caught each others eyes momentarily; he very rarely if ever referred to himself by title. “Which one is a nickname?”  
“Both, because my real name is Takashi Shirogane, though,” he paused for a moment, “I don't really feel like Takashi any more.”  
“Are you able to explain why?” Ulaz leaned forward slowly so not to spook him. Shiro snuggled into Sendak a little more, “not sure. I guess he feels very different? Distant? Other? Not-me,” Shiro gave a curt nod, “yeah, that sounds about right.”  
“Perhaps it is only for a short while. Do you remember what happened?”  
“Y-Yeah. The Commander was there, the witch as well. She was in here, digging and stripping.” He poked at his head, eyes narrowing, “I don't know what she's stripped away though. Things are missing, that's about it.”  
“And do you remember what you asked to be removed?”  
“No,” Shiro glanced between Ulaz and Sendak, “should I remember?”  
“No, it is fine,” Sendak gave his forehead a small lick.

 

“I will be going back into space soon, and you will be staying with Ulaz for a while.”  
“Yeah, I remember. Some arena stuff, seeing the Emperor when he wants me, and augmentation.”  
“And one more test,” Ulaz added, “it is just a drugs one.”  
“Oh, so I get space-weed?”  
“I don't know what that is, but perhaps.” Ulaz offered a weak smile but Shiro blinked at him, almost wary. Sendak brought it back under control after clearing his throat. “You will behave for Ulaz, lest you receive punishment.”  
“Is that a good or bad thing?”  
“It helps to make you better, even if it can be a tad painful at times.”  
“Why would I want to be in pain?” Ulaz was at least pleased he still asked questions; thank the gods Haggar hadn't stripped that away. Sendak gave him another lick, “because it is how everyone learns, it is a very Galran thing.”  
“I remember I wanted to get more involved in Galran culture.” Shiro looked between the two of them again, “so this is normal, and you're not lying?”  
“This is very normal,” they both answered. Shiro paused as he nodded slowly to himself. _This was wrong on far too many levels._

 

“So, do you remember what you do in the arena?” Sendak asked.  
“Yes, I fight others. I've killed a lot of aliens there. Some Galra as well.”  
“You have, and you are very, very good at it.”  
“It's for fun, isn't it?”  
“Yes, what you do is entertain the Emperor and the crowds.”  
“So, is it...right to say that it's okay to kill others?” He looked nervously about at the two Galra, he felt this was a stupid question but he didn't know. All he remembered was once he felt scared about it, then he wanted to protect people, and then he _really_ enjoyed it. It was something he got a lot of praise for, like when he was a good boy and pleased the Emperor, Sendak or Haxus; even some of the clients when he was in the brothel. In his mind, if he received praise for that, then it stood to reason he should keep doing it. But then, what if he liked someone he had to kill? He couldn't kill the Commander or Ulaz or anyone else he was close to.

 

“You can only kill those in the arena, and if you were ever on the battlefield, you can kill them too. Just remember; in the arena you have to be allowed by the Emperor.”  
“Yeah, I remember you drilling that into my head when we first met.” Ulaz glanced to Sendak who avoided the look. “It is acceptable to kill prisoners because they have no use. Think of it like you are...what was the Earth term...pest control, yes.” Sendak rubbed small circles into his skin and Ulaz held his hands in tight fists under the desk. So much as it should be Shiro who should end Sendak's life for doing this to him, Ulaz would happily go down with him if he had to.

 

“So does that mean I am a pest? What about Rudiarius and the concubines? Other gladiators?”  
“Some lives are worth more then others, Champion, and yours is considered very highly by the Emperor himself.”  
“Okay, I think I get it...but what about Galrans?”  
“Although we sit higher in the food chain, I suppose, those sent to the arena are terrible and weak. They hold no use for the Empire. Some, like who you were supposed to fight, are treasonous cowards. That one took advantage of a Commander's personal slave without his consent, sired a half-breed.”  
“Is being a half-breed bad?”  
“I think that's enough questions, Shiro,” Ulaz finally stepped in, no longer able to hold his tongue. Sendak glanced up, but made no move to speak out.

 

“I should get back to the ship soon, Haxus is growing impatient.” Sendak set down Champion and stretched out, giving his hair a ruffle. He didn't appreciate needing to talk to him like a kit, but he seemed to understand. At least seeds were planted, and he would see how they were germinating upon his return. He looked to Ulaz as he slowly rose from the chair. “You will receive a pay increase for what I have sprung upon you.”  
“It is appreciated, Commander.” Ulaz offered a weak smile and moved towards Champion, peeking into his eyes. “Do you need any help?”  
“No, I think I'm alright. Thank you.” He rubbed his eyes and moved from the room.  
“I've sorted your bag for you.” Sendak called after him, and Champion backed up. “How long was I out for?”  
“Almost four vargas,” Champion opened his mouth and closed it, his brow creasing, “what is wrong?”  
“N-Nothing. I just thought it wouldn't be that late.” He quickly moved from the room, Sendak casting a glance to Ulaz. “Find out what that was about.”  
“I plan to.” They gave each other a curt nod and left the office.

 

-

 

“Shiro, are you hungry?”  
“A little, but mostly thirsty.” His eyes caught worried amber ones. “Are you alright with me?”  
“I...Kaleska and I, we spoke.”  
“She told you I gather?”  
“Yes. Why did you?”  
“Orders. Needing to earn compliance by any and all means.”  
“Did you hurt yourself?” Shiro motioned to his back and Ulaz nodded slowly. “I don't understand why you did the job.”  
“I was much colder in my younger quintants, so thought it an exciting experience at the time. However I was gravely mistaken. I did many things I am not proud of, Shiro.” He settled on the sofa and held his head in his hands.

 

He felt metal fingers brush his short fur. “I believe her, but also that you're not bad, even after everything.” Ulaz caught his grey eyes; so gentle towards him no matter what he'd been through. Ulaz dug his nails into his head, pressing his teeth into his bottom lip. He didn't deserve this kindness when he _knowingly_ was letting Sendak manipulate him. Without thinking, he grabbed Shiro's wrist and brought him in to a deep kiss, gripping at the back of the robe. Shiro's yelp was muffled against his lips, but as he slowly released his wrist, he found arms mutually pull him closer.

 

“I shouldn't of-” This time Ulaz was the one who was kissed, as well as knocked down into the sofa. Shiro laced his fingers between his own, the other hand around the back of his head holding him in place. Again without thinking, he brought his hand up under the robes to smooth the skin on his hip. Shiro made a noise of approval as he pulled away, those eyes starting to find the light in there again. “I-I thought you-”  
“I may not be able to have a proper relationship with you,” Shiro muttered, smoothing his hand over the body suit, “but I'm not gonna deny there's nothing there either. I said it all before and, I may not be in the best place right now, but I've got way too many feelings that don't make a lot of sense. Hell, I probably shouldn't be doing this either.” He wiped at his lips and Ulaz pulled him back down, smoothing his forearm. “Let me make you feel better.” He murmured. Shiro grinned down at him, “how about I make you feel better?” He ran his hand down to Ulaz's hipbones, dragging his nails over the fabric.

 

They moved from the sofa and Shiro followed behind him. He cast a glare to match Adam's in the corner. “Fuck you.” He mouthed at him, before swiftly catching up and pushing Ulaz back into the covers, nipping at him as he moved up the body suit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you can see why In Your Gravity may be getting more chapters over the next few weeks ahah! I did enjoy doing my new fic too, since I missed a lot of dark I could have done with this fic, but alas.
> 
> Well I am happy I finished this in time for Eurovision later tonight :) go every other country bar the UK, hah.
> 
> Next chapter Shiro doesn't get space-weed, but does get a few trips...some good, some bad. He's gonna get his meds soon too. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it is quite...painful in places. Again, we're at the point now where things are ramping up and sadly that means intensity. I am trying to give you guys reprieve where I can, I promise. The pay-off though will be worth it in places, but some won't be seen until part 2.
> 
> Thank you, and until next time!


	43. Rendezvous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone who's carrying on with the fic ^^ thanks for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> I am conflicted how I feel about this chapter. I got my points I wanted to, but it was a semi-awkward one to write. I had to do some fic diving. Generally speaking this is a good chapter until the final scene. There's a bit of comedy, well to me its funny, but hey ho. Non-funny bits is some victim-blaming that Shiro gets round to. It is quite dialogue heavy, I will say.
> 
> I won't say much else except I hope you enjoy!

Ulaz stroked the hair from Shiro's face and brushed his thumb against his skin. The usual areas were bruised again and the fresh bite marks had thankfully scabbed over well enough. Ulaz shifted, feeling a tad sore, but imagined that Shiro hadn't realised his own strength. Regardless, it was nothing particularly bothersome. He flopped back down, feeling grateful he didn't have to head in to work this early, and the fact that his new job was effectively looking after Shiro, which at least meant he could take him out a little more around Central. Right now, he just wanted to lay like this, stroking his hair and letting him rest. The amount he had been through was no doubt taxing, especially over the last few phoebs.

 

Eventually, Shiro stirred and sleepily grabbed at the hand that stroked him. “Mm?”  
“Good morning, Shiro,” Ulaz offered, brushing their noses together; it was an Earth custom he thought very cute. “G'mornin',” he yawned, the pointed teeth on display for a tick until he closed his mouth and moved his jaw, the bone clicking.  
“How are you feeling today?”  
“Better, but still exhausted.”  
“We will need to go out soonish, but do you want tea?”  
“Y-Yeah, that'd be nice,” he blinked and shuffled forward, holding Ulaz's hand tighter, “sorry, I think I was rougher last night.”  
“You were a bit, but I'm still in one piece.” Ulaz gave his mouth a dainty lick, and pushed himself up. “Are you a bit sticky?”  
“A little, but it's fine. I...liked last night a lot,” he brushed his hand against the soft fur and Ulaz patted the covers, “I'm glad you did. Now get comfortable, I'll be back in a few dobosh's.”

 

-

 

Two vargas later, they stopped outside the labs. Shiro sighed and turned to Ulaz, who gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “We will not be here for long, although you will be back in three quintants for the start of augmentation, but it should not be an overnight stay.”  
“That's good. I hate this place.”  
“I can imagine. Well, come along, let us get this test over and done with. You can help me cook later this evening.”  
“I am terrible.”  
“Nonsense! I am sure you are not that bad.” Shiro couldn't help but laugh. “No, I'm so bad the Commander refuses to let me cook anything. I once tried to blend meat.”  
“How on Diabazaal did you manage that?”  
“I couldn't read anything!” Shiro gave him a playful elbow to the side, Ulaz catching it easily. “Well, someone just needs to teach you.”  
“You best pray to all your gods, then.”

 

“Hey! I'm with you guys for the quintant!” They both turned to find Hepta jogging over carrying a stack of datapads with him in his arms. Ulaz arched an eyebrow as he took a precariously stacked pad from the top, then another. “Good morning, Officer Hepta, I did hear you would be in with us.”  
“Yeah, Commander Sendak asked me to, and,” he beamed at Shiro, “we can hang out more!”  
“Can we?”  
“Yeah, I can finally take you out a few places and it'll be good. You can meet some of my friends – they are huge fans by the way,” he leaned in at that part, ears flicking in excitement. Shiro looked to Ulaz, who nodded with a smile on his face. “He is affording you a few more freedoms, which surprises me. However, you do need to be cautious, Officer Hepta, some Galra can be ignorant of the collar.”  
“He'll be fine with a group of us,” Hepta gave a curt nod and Ulaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nonetheless, it will be good for you to interact more with other Galra...probably around your equivalent age.”  
“I always pegged Hepta as a teenager, honestly.” Shiro folded his arms and grinned at Hepta, who looked mortified at the insinuation.

 

“I'm _older_ than you, and can be way more serious.”  
“Prove it,” Shiro cocked his eyebrow, and Hepta narrowed his eyes as he brought himself up to full height. “Then let's start the drug test and you can see how serious I am.” With that, he marched towards the door and stepped inside. Both Ulaz and Shiro looked at each other, trying to stifle back another bout of laughter. Hepta poked his head out the side of the door, looking between the two. “By the way, I know you finally boned.” He ducked back inside, a cat-like grin on his face, as Shiro growled and made a beeline towards him. For the second time in five dobosh's, Ulaz pinched the bridge of his nose again. It was going to be a long quintant.

 

-

 

Out of the samples they had ran so far, one had no effect, one caused his body to sweat and made his skin itch, and this one. Well. Ulaz wondered whether this was what he meant by 'space-weed'. He sighed when Hepta made another exasperated whine.

 

“Kitit.”  
“Ulaz he won't tell me what a 'kitit' is.” Hepta tried to bat Shiro away but it wasn't working, as he simply pushed his entire weight on top of him, scratching at his ears. “Kitit. Soft, warm, snaggly kitit.”  
“Shiro, what noise does a kitit make?” Ulaz called over. Shiro rolled his head against Hepta's, eyes heavy and pupils huge as he pawed at him. “Meow.”  
“He means cat.”  
“I am not a small, fluffy Earth-mammal!” Hepta growled again as Shiro rubbed himself against him.  
“Shhhh, angry kitit.” He just kept stroking Hepta's head, shuffling awkwardly and pushing him into the floor. For all intents and purposes, it looked like Shiro was trying to wrap his body around Hepta's shoulders.

 

“Ulaz, Ulaz, please help me.” Hepta reached his hand out, grunting as Shiro tugged at his ears. It was like having a giant kit on his back, and he knew nothing about kit's except that they ate a lot and had no concept of personal space. “I really need to observe this behaviour, and I cannot interfere with the subject.” Ulaz shrugged his shoulders as he settled a few feet away with the tablet in his hand, a sly grin on his face. Hepta was abandoned by his own kind, left to be squashed to death by Champion who-  
“Shiro, if you don't get your finger out of my ear I swear to Zarkon I am going to maul you.”  
“Make me kitititty.”  
“ _Stop saying words I don't know!_ ” Hepta couldn't understand _how_ he was so heavy as he dug his claws into the floor, trying to drag himself over to Ulaz. This was revenge, he knew it, because he knew they fucked. Hepta wasn't stupid; he knew Ulaz was terrible, but this pettiness? Completely unreasonable.

 

Eventually Shiro rolled off Hepta's back, holding his hands up the the light above him. He wiggled each finger individually, then every-other one, and then the opposite. He stared at the nails that peeked over his fingertips, frowning hard at them and then his prosthetic. “Can they match?”  
“What?” Hepta vigorously brushed his armour down, glancing over.  
“They can match!” Shiro giggled, rolling his head towards Hepta.  
“It is doubtful your arm will be granted aesthetic changes,” Ulaz offered as he checked his communicator. Shiro blinked, feeling his muscles relax. He let his arms drop either side of him and his head roll to the side; it was like someone had attached training weights to his entire body, but they were invisible and made out of monster trucks that were on fire. On fire, because that's what his body felt like right now.

 

“Hot. Burning,” he tried to lift the dead weight that was his arm, but it refused to move. Shiro tried again with no success, the other also not working. “Stock.”  
“You are just a tad stuck,” Ulaz settled next to him, holding another needle, “we'll have a break after this kicks in.”  
“Bread snack,” Shiro blurted out, not entirely sure why as his core temperature continued to rise while the room pulsed and blended around him. The light snaked around the ceiling and everything seemed so much taller from the floor. The purple light that glowed to a rhythm reminded him of some clubs he'd been too. Someone asked him if he wanted to buy any meow-meow, weed, meth probably, and every time he declined. Drugs testing and all that. He didn't know what this was.  
“It is a synthetic drug often used in interrogation.” Pretty pale purple elf-cat knew everything, like he could read his mind. “Shiro, I don't know what an elf is.” _He really can read minds._

 

“Is he okay?”  
“He's not screaming so it is a positive.” They both watched as he tried to wiggle, still murmuring about being hot. To the touch, Shiro was at a regular temperature, although his body was sweating again. Keeping his modesty, Ulaz carefully loosened the top of his robes, brushing the hair back from his eyes. He was pleased so far the tests had primarily been going fine, but hesitated to feel they were out of the asteroid field just yet. Shiro continued to mumble and laugh to himself, pupils still blown wide that there was almost no grey to see.

 

-

 

“ _Get the fuck away from me,_ ” Shiro snarled at Yastara. They cocked their head to the side, toothy grin only widening unnaturally. They took a step forward, tail primed. “Silly little pet never got Yastara from their head, yes?” Their voice was just as velvety as always and it made his skin crawl. “Little pet is even a good boy for the Emperor! Yastara is proud, yes, little pet knows it's place.”  
“I **said** get the fuck away or do I have to kill you again?”  
“Tsk, tsk, little pet. Yastara can't die again because Yastara is dead!” They skipped towards Shiro, him bringing his arm forward. “Silly pet!” Yastara vanished but their voice didn't. Shiro spun around, hunting for the bastard. He felt something coil around his thigh, snarling out again as he brought his fist around. It struck something but was then pinned back.

 

“Oh no, little pet was _very_ bad,” they cooed as the tip of the tail pressed against his ass before pushing in. He felt it unfurl and shuddered as it emptied into him. _Why can't he move, what was happening?_ He let out a frenzied snarl as he thrashed against the hold and eventually fell to the ground. Yastara's laughter became louder, then the pitched dropped to something rumbling and dreadful. Shiro felt claws pull him backwards.

 

“You dare strike out against your Emperor?”  
“N-No!” Shiro screeched, bringing his arms up defensively as Zarkon bore down on top of him. Claws dragged over the side of his head, over his ear, until they snaked round to settle on the bridge of his nose. “I should mark you for such insolence.” They dug into his skin and Shiro could feel the blood as it surfaced, following the burning pain around the side of his face. They caught over his ear and he could feel the skin and cartilage ripped away. His throat was locked up and Shiro couldn't scream or cry.

 

Ulaz panted hard as he exerted all of his weight down on Shiro. They didn't have time to wait for the guards or druids. Hepta held his arm between his thighs to steady it as he injected the muscle relaxant, then the antidote. They needed him to still before they could remove themselves, but this one worked as the purpose intended. Ulaz winced at the sharp pain over his ribs; being on the receiving end of his fists hurt, that was for sure.

 

-

 

“Everything still tastes of blood,” Shiro mumbled as Hepta and Ulaz eased him down to the sofa. On any other occasion, Ulaz wouldn't have let Hepta in, but the deep throbbing pain in his ribs hadn't subsided. They weren't broken or cracked, thankfully. “You sit down, Ulaz, you don't look too well. I'll get Shiro a drink,” Hepta offered as he peered through the doorway. “No, follow me,” he cracked a small smile as he moved towards the kitchen; he could grab painkillers then.

 

Shiro chewed his lip as he stared down at his hands. He hadn't been aware – he didn't mean to hit him so hard. _You were on drugs they gave you, don't beat yourself up._ But I hurt him. _Yeah, well they injected you full of stuff, so they should have been prepared, right?_ That's true, but- _No but's, it's still their fault._ I'm not that uncaring. His mind shut off, and he let out a frustrated growl, swallowing back the taste of blood again. The last drug didn't cause any illusions or hallucinations, but made his body react badly. It started off as a nosebleed, then a sharp pain in his head and behind the eyes. After that, it quickly progressed to him vomiting blood up. He watched as the two returned, Hepta settling next to Shiro and holding out a glass of pink liquid. “ _Midkique_ is good for you,” he shuffled a little closer, “great at washing away the taste of bad things.”  
“Thanks,” he offered a weak smile that quickly fell when he heard Ulaz make a small grunt as he sat back down.

 

-

 

“I'm sorry about earlier.”  
“You do not need to keep apologising, Shiro.” Ulaz glanced up from his communicator to find Shiro watching him carefully. “Still, I hurt you and I didn't mean to.”  
“I know, but it was the drugs. If I may ask, what did you see?”  
“Yastara and the Emperor.”  
“Have you seen any of the others?”  
“Last night, that was it,” Shiro placed the book down. It was one of his medical journals Shiro wanted to try and read, “I saw my ex-fiancé. I know, he's not out here,” Shiro's nose wrinkled as he laughed to himself, glancing up between the white strands, “I sometimes wonder if it's me projecting.”  
“I am not certain I understand what you mean?” Ulaz leaned forward slowly, the usual look of worry marring his face.

 

“I'm not sure either, just,” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, “maybe it's something in here, again,” he pointed to his head, “that is like 'no, don't sleep with the aliens', and so it uses the guise of Adam to try and get me to reconsider. It used Keith the other day and I just...couldn't. I didn't want Sendak touching me in front of him.”  
“Is that not because you are a bit fond of him, though?”  
“I...” Shiro moved again in his seat, “guess I am.”  
“You are much more then you allow yourself to believe.”  
“It's not that I just want to, you know, I just catch myself missing him from time-to-time. All the other things, like how he talks or does stuff. I think what hurts the most is he thinks I'm dead, and what that would have done to him. He's not had a lot of luck with people being there, the kid lost his dad.” Shiro toyed with his hands as he looked up again from the floor, “his mum wasn't around, and he wasn't exactly the best-behaved kit, but it's because no one _bothered_. I just hope he's learned to open up and the Garrison hasn't given up on him – that he hasn't given up on himself.”

 

Moments like this was what made Shiro who he was. For all the purging and eroding, his compassion remained, albeit diminished from their first interactions considerably. The arena had seen to that. Still, it was still Galran to care, even if the culture of Central Command looked to squash that down. To some extent, to weaponise him would require Shiro to be compassionate towards the plight of the Empire, although that in itself was something he struggled with rationalising. Would they really require him to be? He couldn't honestly be certain.

 

“Shiro, if anything, please never let this side of you be erased.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Central Command is a cold place emotionally as I am sure you have noticed. Just please, never let the compassion you hold for others go, even if all you can hold on to are those you care deeply for.”  
“I haven't yet,” his lips tugged at the side, “in the arena it'd kill me, and you need to remember; I was part of a military group – a fighter pilot - before I came here. If I couldn't handle it, I'd never have joined,” his eyes held a confidence that Ulaz wondered if he'd ever seen before, “besides, my resolve has always been in doing things for others. Matt and Sam, Keith's protection, the Commander, you and Hepta. I guess what I'm saying is that fighting for the Empire is something I can do, and when I think of who I want to protect from say, the rebels that stole Matt away and destroyed that prison,” he closed his eyes, “well, lets just say for all the lives they took, all the families they destroyed, I'd see that the rebels paid for what they did. They're the enemy.” Shiro opened his eyes again, the light catching them in such a way the glint in his pupils made him look almost mad. It was jarring in reference to how calm he sounded.

 

“Even if the Galra were the ones to turn their lives into one of fighting?”  
“Well, like everyone's ever told me; just submit, it's easier and less trouble. If they didn't want to hurt any more then why resist it? Besides, you're a citizen and your needs and desires outrank my own. I've just been lucky that I've not had it that bad compared to others, you know? You and the Commander look out for me, take care of me.” Shiro smiled and Ulaz felt his stomach knot. His rhetoric was so terribly wrong, but he could _understand_ why he felt like that, because he'd said and hoped that Shiro would just behave in the past to save himself trouble, so _of fucking course_ victim-blaming would seem acceptable to him, mostly because he'd been doing it to himself for so long.

 

“So a hypothetical question; how would you have felt if you had to fight the Marmora agent in the arena?” This time Ulaz moved and settled next him under the guise of bringing him in for a hug. Shiro leaned inwards, rubbing his head against his shirt. “Can you promise not to say anything?”  
“I can.” He recalled their last conversation phoebs' ago.  
“I'm happy. I saw what Zarkon and Sendak done to him – what he looked like when they brought him in. It wouldn't have been much of a fight, honestly,” Shiro tensed up, “but also he's Galran, and so that's conflicting, especially now. I know what they do is wrong for the Empire, but at the same time, it helps me hold out hope.”  
“Hope for what, Shiro?” He'd long lost the will to try and escape, so Ulaz was genuinely confused as to what he could be hoping for.  
“Hope that one quintant, I might have some freedoms; that I won't be cut into again, have control and choice. To tell my mum I love her, to tell Keith I'm sorry I never made it to his graduation. Just to say goodbye.” Shiro buried his face into his shirt, and Ulaz brought his arm around his waist. It was promising if he felt like this towards the Blades at this point, and would help in Kolivan's decision to take him in. “I promise I won't tell a soul.” Ulaz whispered in his ear, the human quivering against him, and the two remained in silence together.

 

“Do you think if things were different, you and your friend could properly become mates?” Shiro asked carefully. He'd been thinking of what would happen if the Blades killed Zarkon, and how that would work out for Ulaz and his friend. “I do not know, there are many possibilities for how things could be.”  
“I'm sorry, by the way, for the Commander making you look after me. I know it must disrupt your usual routine of staying at their place,” Shiro pulled back and settled at the opposite end of the sofa, “also you have your needs and stuff.”  
“That...is true. My friend and I have discussed a few things although it has been...awkward. A way will be found.”  
“Do you think I could meet them?”  
“I think you will soon.”  
“I'll sleep on the sofa when they visit. You guys need your privacy.” Shiro folded his arms across his chest and Ulaz cracked a wicked little smirk. “Someone is a bit presumptuous that we would be sharing.” Shiro swore, cracking a toothy grin in reply, “I walked right into that, didn't I?”  
“You did,” Ulaz chuckled. He offered his hand out, and Shiro took it.

 

-

 

Shiro stared down at the small container in his hand. “So this is it, huh?”  
“Yes. With all the data I have gathered, these should work. We will need to trial it for a few movements, but you must remember to take them once per quintant, do you understand?”  
“Yeah. I also need to build up a routine as well, right?”  
“Yes, although I am not entirely certain what we should have you do.” Ulaz tapped his claws against the kitchen table. After a few dobosh's, Shiro snapped his fingers. “I'll do what I did back at the Commanders.”  
“So what did you do?”  
“Well, I used to wake up earlier then he did and make tea and, by the time I came back he was usually just waking up. For fifteen dobosh's he'd be reading work stuff, then I'd help him make breakfast. After that it was a shower, then grab his stuff, make sure the gauntlet arm was charged enough, see him off, clean up and then after that I'd split the day between practising forms and stances and meditating. Obviously eat something at lunch, and then yeah, just wait for him to come back...do further cleaning and any other little things. I probably need to spend time going back over my Galran too, because I've not done much of that for a while.”  
“Do you have your tablet?”  
“Somewhere, yeah.” Shiro went to move but Ulaz motioned for him to remain.

 

“As you won't be as alone as you were previously, we can make some amendments. I will also not allow you to just do all my chores either. If you are insistent, you may aid me, understand?”  
“That's fine by me. So, what do you have in mind?”  
“Well, we need to account for the Emperor's summons, therapy sessions, augmentation, and your arena matches...then on top of that, the Commander messaged me earlier, since he apparently forgot to tell me you are helping the Rudiarius train the new gladiators, so there's that.” Ulaz blinked as he mouthed back what he'd just said and frowned. “You are awfully busy for a slave, now we need to factor in rest-times-” He looked up when Shiro sounded off a warm laugh. “Sorry,” he wiped his eyes, “just I've had a weirdly busy life since I came out here, and this is kinda normal for me. I'll make time to rest, don't worry.” He cocked his head to the side, leaning it against his hand. Ulaz offered a small smile and gave his arm a rub. “We will manage.”  
“We will. As my mother always said; patience yields focus.”  
“You should listen to her wise words more, you can be terribly impatient at times.” Ulaz smirked as he pulled away, motioning for Shiro to take the tablet.

 

-

 

In the day-cycle, he found the fountain just as pretty as it was during the late vargas of the night-cycle. He let his metal fingers run through the quintessence, creating small ripples. Ulaz had said they were meeting someone here, and he'd been flustered before they left. Shiro had a feeling that it was his friend, because he'd cooked an extra portion to bring with them. It felt like they were out for a picnic, and for a brief moment he wondered whether this was a dream, another drug trip, or his hallucinations had really upped their game. He nipped at his arm. Yeah, that was real pain, that was real blood.

 

Thace spotted Ulaz, who was offering him such a warm smile he wanted to jog over and just scoop him up. He raised his hand instead, a more dignified response for his rank, but did quicken his pace. Shiro turned and looked at him, then Ulaz, and back again. It was going to be strange meeting him, because he had to play coy as to what he knew. It wouldn't be hard to do, just frustrating. He came to a stop and offered a hand out for Ulaz. He wouldn't lie, his heart fluttered a little in his chest as his soft fur brushed against his own. _It's not even been that long._ Ulaz's gaze warmed as he rose.

 

“I've missed you.” Thace whispered.  
“Really? It's not even been three quintants.”  
“Without someone to cuddle up to, that's a long time.” Thace let his mouth linger near Ulaz's ear, purposefully breathing out and making him tense. Thace pulled back and offered his hand to Shiro, who was sat gawping up at him. It took him a tick longer than was necessary to realise what he was doing as he blinked himself out of his stupor. “S-Sorry, I-I'm Shiro,” he quickly took the hand and Thace gently pulled him up. “I've heard little bits about you, Champion. Is Shiro preferable?”  
“You can call me anything.” Thace cast a quick look to Ulaz, whose eyebrows were arched and lips curled upwards. “Well, perhaps your name is better. I'm Lieutenant Thace,” he pulled his hand away, Shiro's pupils flicking about awkwardly and a strange hue over his cheeks.  
“Ulaz, is he okay?”  
“Yes, he is fine. You are just a bit flustered, yes?”  
“I'm not flustered, you are! _Shit._ ” Ulaz held his hand to his mouth to stifle the small laugh. Thace exhaled slowly and knocked into his side. “C'mon, I only have a varga and a half for lunch. Stop teasing him.”  
“I feel I have perhaps spent too much time around Hepta,” Ulaz have him a quick nudge back before giving Shiro's shoulder a small squeeze, “I know, he is quite handsome.”  
“ _No shit!_ ” Shiro looked from him to Thace again, who could only muster a small shrug and a smile. This was not what he was expecting, at all.

 

The three moved to settle in a quieter spot around the corner. It was an enclosed space walled off by dark plants with large leaves. Some looked like ferns, while others had dark purple flowers in bloom. Shiro couldn't help but peer at them, reaching his hand out and running it through the leaves. It was strange; that Central Command would have such a place, but the variety of plant life as well. Associating the Galra with plants was not something he would've ever considered, especially rather dainty-looking flowers. He rubbed his thumb over the petals, teasing one off to play with in his human hand. He felt like a child again, so full of wonder at the world around him. He noted the container of food placed in front of him, but his concentration remained on the petal. It was velvety-smooth under the touch, and the rich scent of flowers was overpowering. It felt like he was outside if not for the lack of birdsong and the high metal ceiling above him.

 

“So, do you like flowers?” Thace offered as he watched Shiro curiously.  
“Honestly? Not really. It's just,” he frowned down at the petal, “it's just jarring. Why does this space exist?”  
“Just for the regular officers and people who live here,” Thace shrugged his shoulders, “it's rare anyone can get planet-side, so there's a small department who just look to make staying here more palatable. A lot of us came from planets, while others came from the rings that were created to give the feeling of living on a planet. Some were born in space.”  
“Yeah. In Ragnar I had that feeling.” Shiro looked at Ulaz as he opened the container, placing the lid carefully on top of the petal lest the wind blew it away. _Wait, there's no wind._ Well I can't move it now. _Shit, that's true._

 

“So, were you born planet-side? Ulaz told me he was born on a moon.”  
“Yes,” he glanced at Ulaz who merely smiled in response. He hoped that he hadn't revealed too much about himself that could mess up his cover-story. They'd have to have words later. It may be something small, but Thace couldn't have Ulaz do anything else reckless: sleeping with Shiro had already been dangerous enough, and now he was staying with him, that made it all even more awkward. He poked his fork into the food, shifting it around. What was he thinking? Ulaz knew what he was doing; he was his mentor, and exceptionally good at his job. Maybe this was why Kolivan had issues with relationships between each other.

 

Conversation continued on and off as they ate. Thace asked Shiro about the arena and told him he was good at fighting; apparently he'd watched all of his fights and sometimes when he trained. They'd also met before, but Shiro couldn't remember. According to Ulaz he was really out of it. Occasionally he'd spot other Galra wandering about and they would cast the group curious glances. A few were plucky enough to approach them, asking if they could get a photo with him or hold his prosthetic. The attention was exhausting, and adding to his tiredness. No matter how much sleep he had, he was still drained. Eating was still a struggle at times too. He glanced up at Ulaz and Thace, who had steadily been getting closer. It was cute, and they made a really adorable couple, and honestly it was a nice distraction to just watch and listen to them.

 

“Can you watch Shiro for a few ticks?”  
“Of course, what's wrong?”  
“The bathroom,” Ulaz rose and offered them both a smile, “I am sure you will find something to talk about.” It was then Thace realised what he was doing as Ulaz waved at them both. He outwardly groaned and glanced over to Shiro, who looked just as mortified. “Have you realised as well?”  
“Uh, yeah. I, uh, I'm sorry.”  
“Sorry for what?” Thace rested his hands on the table while Shiro turned his head away.  
“That stuff...happened.”  
“There's nothing to be sorry for. To put it this way, I was expecting it to happen after you kissed.” Thace allowed himself to relax. Usually he'd rather be to-the-point, but he'd been warned not to be in case it riled Shiro up, which was fair enough so far as he was concerned. “I'm happy, honestly, because out of the both of us he's done this the least. Believe me,” he noted the wary look he was getting, “we have spoken about this at length, and I have no issues about you guys fucking each other, but I'm not going to engage myself with both of you in the bedroom because that's your own thing. It's a rule we have between us, if you can understand?”  
“Pretty much you compartmentalise other relationships but he's your main, and Ulaz does the same.”  
“Yeah.”  
“So kinda what I have to already do then,” Shiro nodded, frowning down at the petal as he toyed with it again.

 

“I care about Ulaz a lot, like, he's been...I've never had this much support before, and we know it shouldn't of happened. I know though that he really, really cares about you, Lieutenant, because when he has spoken about you at times he just looks so happy. Watching you guys is, uh,” Shiro scratched at the back of his neck, “you just suit each other. I think what I'm trying to say is just, I dunno, try and get to work in the same place for good and maybe just do the thing to become mates – I have no idea how it happens – but just...get together properly.”  
“Sadly it's not an option.”  
“I don't understand why, even if it's about work.” Shiro's pupils flicked up, then around them. Thace sighed, running a hand through his fur. “Know that if we could, we would. It doesn't help that I outrank him, too.”  
“It doesn't seem to stop anyone else, but it's your business.”

 

Shiro let out a sigh. “Sorry, it's nerve-wracking meeting you. I feel awkward, infringing on your time together. I'm tired – too many people.” He was speaking quicker and quicker. Thace leaned over and placed his hand on top of his. “Calm down before you have a panic, alright? You really have no need to worry. It's kind of you to be so thoughtful, but we can still see each other, there's always ways around it. Besides, I wouldn't mind chatting to you a little more. You're just stressed out, which I get.” Thace gave his hand a little squeeze that made Shiro feel a tad better before he pulled away.  
“I'd like that, but at least I'm prepared now.”  
“In what way?”  
“I know what you look like now. I won't be caught out by how easy on the eyes you are,” Shiro flashed him a sheepish grin and scratched at his head again, “I may be going on some nights out with Hepta, but happy to be left alone.”  
“Thanks for the heads up, it's just convincing Ulaz. He worries; _really_ worries.”  
“Him and the Commander sometimes forget I'm an adult.”  
“Ulaz has a habit of wanting to protect things – at least these quintants. He found it again, and I wanna say thanks.” Thace gave him a curt nod, and Shiro returned it.

 

-

 

“I am sorry I did not give you so much warning.” Ulaz chuckled as Shiro buried his head into his chest, facing burning a bright red. He mumbled something in retort that Ulaz didn't catch, but in a way it was quite sweet, as the humans would say. “I did not catch that.” He lifted his head slowly, gaze softening at the grumpy pout. “I said you could have told me he was ridiculously good-looking.”  
“That is a subjective assessment, but I would certainly agree he has attractive physical qualities. I have always leaned towards personality considering what my day job entails.”  
“I guess that makes sense.”  
“How about you?” Ulaz smoothed the blushed skin, he was incredibly adorable like this. “I, uh, a mix of things? My tastes are kinda all over the place right now. You were right, though, he is nice.”  
“I did not mean to put you both on the spot, however Thace had said he wanted to talk with you, and I thought it better to get it out of the way earlier.”  
“It helped otherwise it'd get progressively more awkward,” Shiro mumbled as he pressed his cheek against the touch, “it was still awkward.”  
“Well you did very well, and I hope you two can get on further.”  
“It'd be nice to have a few more friends,” Shiro cracked a weak smile as he pressed himself back down into his chest. “Tired, sorry.”  
“Then perhaps a nap is in order, I am a little tired myself.” Ulaz manoeuvred Shiro into a more comfortable position and settled back on the sofa, slowly brushing his fingers over the fabric. He wished Thace was here with them.

 

-

 

Shiro glanced back at Ulaz as Haggar led him away. She had a strong hold on the energy rope – more than her stature would imply. He was taken to an elevator that closed quickly. “From the moment you set foot in my lab, you will not speak unless spoken to. Do you understand?” She didn't look at him as she spoke. Shiro swallowed, “what happens if something hurts?” She remained silent which set the hairs on the back of Shiro's neck off. The robes rustled and he glanced back to at her. “Your pain is irrelevant to me, Champion. You have been coddled outside of the arena,” he caught her golden eyes, flashing in the low light as she turned to look down her nose at him, “and it shows. The Commander and that Medical Officer may be fond of you, and you may amuse the Emperor and masses, but to me, _Champion_ , you are just another subject.” Clawed fingers gripped his jaw as she snapped his head up. “You have had your uses, even if you have sent me other planned subjects as corpses, but it matters not. Now,” she dropped his face as the lift came to a stop, “I get to _thank_ you for your hard work.” She effortlessly yanked the lead, Shiro choking hard as he stumbled forward, eyes wide and mind racing in panic.

 

“You can't do thi-”  
“I will do as I please, _subject_.” She hissed, turning and catching him across the cheek with her claws. Shiro yelped in pain, grabbing for his face, but the witch refused to give him reprieve. She looped the energy rope around her wrist and pulled him closer, even as he tried to hold his ground. She was unnaturally strong and it was terrifying, more so with her lips pointed upwards and the cackle of laughter that escaped them. “Sendak was a dreck for believing I would graciously roll over. You will be weaponised, and if this body fails, I will make another, and another, until I get it right,” by now he was shaking with fear. A sick dread filled his entire being and he tried to tug away again. She was a monster. An absolute monster.

 

A clawed finger pressed against his forehead and he stopped dead. Their eyes met for who knew how many ticks. Shiro's body tensed as he felt a finger brush over the scratches. “W-Why would you tell me this?”  
“You will not remember a thing, Champion. Well,” she pushed her hood back and he saw her face fully for the first time, breath catching in his chest, “you'll remember what I need you to.” Her voice was nothing but a chilling whisper she let it hang for a few ticks, before electricity surged through his body. He fell to the ground in a heap, fingers twitching as her eyes flashed dangerously down at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookit that Thulaz actually happening in the fic. Look at those awkward conversations.  
> Look at Haggar. Okay, maybe don't look at Haggar. 
> 
> I know it was a talking chapter but I thought it a nice relax, since augmentation is gonna be starting properly next chapter and it's going to be getting to the nose dive soon and oh my god the stress of writing this is picking up! 
> 
> On a second note, letting you know that soon updates may slow down because I have a music festival I'm going to in just over 2 weeks, so I wanna try and write as much as I can before I go away.
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed!


	44. Machination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments last chapter, and the kudos, and welcome, new readers!
> 
> This is a Bad Chapter for Shiro. Haggar is a cow-bag, and Zarkon is Zarkon, really. You guys do get some Sharkon, though! Kinda eye gore, but otherwise we can say hello to a friend....kinda.
> 
> Please enjoy, and take breaks as you need to.

Haggar disliked unnecessary chatter; especially from her living subjects. It was one of the few positives of when they arrived cold, because it did not disturb the silence she worked and lived in most quintants. She could sense the trepidation from the Druids at times when they came here, but it mattered not to her. The only thing that did lay bound to her table; tubes attached to the flesh arm and a mask over its face. The prosthetic lay in pieces beside it; she needed to make sure all the parts were in order for certain. It was good at damaging things, but still, it needed to learn to respect the gifts it was bestowed. Another reason why the just-dead were better to use, all mindless and pliant to her when revived. The living fought, until she made them bend to her will.

 

Her eyes lingered on the quintessence tank primed in the corner of the room. She would have it in there after she was done checking the arm. She would be curious to see how the strain would work on it. It was odd how it became more aggressive on quintessence, but then humans were odd creatures. Adaptive, persistent, and able to withstand many stressors – it was strange considering their species was unremarkable otherwise. Again, perhaps it was just an outlier. She needed more subjects. Perhaps the one remaining human could be viable, or maybe they could capture some more. She wondered if she would need to cast illusions on those ones like she had on this one. She gave its face a glance; the eyes glassy and fearfully gazing upwards. It would enjoy what she'd locked it in to. As instructed, although not as intended, it would receive the propaganda Sendak requested.

 

He really should learn to be more specific.

 

-

 

 _The witch hadn't locked him in place properly, and that was her mistake as she left the room to fetch something. Shiro quickly tugged himself free of the bonds, rubbing his human wrist. He didn't have long, so he had to move. Now. He used equipment as cover as he stealthily escaped, relieved that she didn't keep the guards down here with them, otherwise he'd have them to contend with. Having said that, he glanced down at his prosthetic, she'd removed the inhibitor._ What a fucking dreck. _This make his escape out of here easier. But then where would he go? He hadn't thought further then just getting away from her. He couldn't stop to think, he just had to move._

 

_He almost ran right past it. There. Just like on Sendak's old cruiser, was an access to the vents or maintenance shafts – he couldn't remember what it was now. He prised it off carefully with the metal fingers, grateful having unbound hands this time around. As he climbed in, bringing the plate up behind him, he used the prosthetic to solder it shut. That'd show them for being so reckless. All her words in the lift down were meaningless – the witch was just as arrogant as the rest of them._

 

_He wasn't sure where he was going except up. He clambered and shuffled along the shafts on his stomach, then would repeat it again and again until he found an exit. He held his breath as he went to touch the metal, and then the apprehension kicked in. What would he find on the other side? Shiro pressed his ear against the cold metal; it bit against his skin like when they tested what temperature he could withstand. There was nothing from what he could gauge. After a few more ticks, feeling he was far enough away from the witch, he slowly pushed it open and climbed out._

 

_He wasn't sure if he recognised where he was. It was a part of Central Command he didn't think he'd been to before. The corridors between the apartments were tight, like the alleys he remembered around the residential areas. He was probably in a different one. He dropped behind some crates and sighed heavily, opening and closing his human hand. It hurt, perhaps because it was weak, or because he was so exhausted from the climbing. He didn't know how long he'd been doing it for, except that everything organic felt like he'd just done five rounds in the arena in a row. They were right that the Galra arm was the strongest thing about him, and he had the Commander to thank for granting him that._

 

_Thinking about it, Sendak would be angry that he ran away. That hadn't crossed his mind, just that the witch was terrible. Then again, surely he would be on his side – she was going to hurt him when she wasn't supposed to. She had to listen, Sendak owned him. So surely he would be okay? It didn't matter how he tried to rationalise it, Sendak would punish him for this. Maybe it'd be like the time he tore his skin up with the chain whip he had. Shiro bit his lip; he never wanted that punishment again – the silence and darkness. Running away wasn't Galran either._

 

_Oh shit._  
_Fuck.  
_ _Why the fuck did he escape for? Maybe if he-_

 

“ _Attention, citizens of Central Command, this is an announcement. Code E-P-A: Threat Level Two. The Champion has made an escape attempt. A reward will be given to whoever captures and returns him to the Emperor.” Shiro felt the blood drain from his face and flopped back as the announcement repeated itself. Then the lights changed from the usual purple to red._

 

_Shit._

 

_His only choice was to get back into the shaft. He threw himself forward, stumbling as he wildly grabbed at the metal. It wouldn't come off. He swore again and whipped his head around in a panic. Matt was stood there, and Shiro blinked. Oh great, now he was hallucinating on top of all this. Matt was motioning him back over to the crates, crouched down and glancing back towards the opening of the alleyway. Shiro groaned and scurried over, settling beside him._

 

“ _What do you want? Can't you see I'm fucked right now?”_  
“ _Yeah I can,” Matt glanced at him quickly, “which is why I'm here to help. I got away from the rebels. They were awful, Shiro, and I handed myself back over. Managed to explain to this Commander, had some black hair or fur on his head in an emo fringe, what had happened, that you had requested my freedom.”_  
“ _Matt, I'm sorry but you can't be real. You'd have gone back to Earth, not come here.”_  
“ _Shiro,” Matt grabbed him, digging his nails so deep into his cheeks it hurt and he could feel the blood draw to the surface, “I don't think you hallucinate this badly. Besides, you were right, not all the Galra are dickheads, and I would rather take you back with me.”_  
“ _I said I-”_  
“ _Do you want the Emperor to kill you? What about getting dad?”_  
“ _I...shit. Yeah. But can I let Ulaz know?”  
_“ _There's no time, we won't have long until they close the docks and hangars if they haven't already.” Matt pulled something from his bag and thrust it into Shiro's arms. “It's a cloak, it's not much but it should at least hide your skin, like mine. C'mon, hurry your ass up.” Shiro complied in a daze. He couldn't believe Matt was back and that he was real – he felt pain, physical pain this time. He hoped this wasn't a hallucination. It was weird how it all added up, but he didn't have time to contemplate it._

 

 _The two scurried out, dipping around corners and hiding behind crates. “Okay, we're getting near a populated area, so we need to try and blend in. You can growl and snarl and speak Galran, so I'll let you do the talking. Also you're bigger than me.”_  
“ _Yeah but we should have Empire-issue armour. No one walks around Central this shady,” Shiro hissed back, “besides, when did you get this mature?”_  
“ _When I was planning my escape from the rebels,” Matt shot back, “I didn't want to become their fuck hole.”_  
“ _Did they?”  
_“ _Like Haxus? Yeah, yeah they did Shiro. Come on, there's no time to talk about this.” Matt sniffed and stood up straighter. Shiro rose with a sharp growl and the two moved with purpose, dropping their hoods to hide their faces. This was the most stupid plan of all time, they needed to steal some guard outfits or get back in the shafts again. They needed to find another one._

 

_Apparently the Galra around them were so focused on finding him, they ran right past. They got strange looks, but they were only glancing. This felt too easy, and Shiro was starting to feel the distrust bubble up inside him. Matt was too...composed, and the Galra should be able to tell by their scents they weren't Galran. Also, why would Matt escape the rebels and return here? Shiro ground to a stop and raised his head. “Matt, what aren't you telling me?”_

 

 _Matt stopped and let out a long sigh. “We need to move, Shiro, it's not safe.”_  
“ _What aren't you telling me?”_  
“ _I'm being honest, Shiro.”_  
“ _No, you're not.” He pushed the hood back, glaring at his back. Matt turned to him, giving him a once over. “Do you want to get caught? Do you like this?”_  
“ _It's not a matter of liking it, it's a matter of accepting it. I'm gonna be a weapon even if I didn't want it, so why not accept it? It makes it easier to live with.”_  
“ _You would kill innocent people – like me, dad, your mom and Keith?”_  
“ _I'd kill those who got in the way of the Empire, but that isn't to say I wouldn't try and reason with them,” Shiro narrowed his eyes, “what hope has Earth got against the Galra? They could destroy our planet with only a few cruisers – even Central itself. How can we stand up to that?”_  
“ _We'd work with the rebels!” Matt spat back._  
“ _So you are working with them?”  
_“ _And so what if I am? It beats working with the Galra, you know, our abusers? Or are you gonna sweep all of that under the rug and chalk it up to 'we deserved it?' or some bullshit?” He took a few steps forward, arm moving under the cloak._

 

“ _You may not of deserved it, but I sure as hell did. What've you got there?”_  
“ _No, you really didn't.”_  
“ _What've you got, Matt?”_  
“ _Oh, just this.” He uncovered the handgun, still staring at Shiro. “You're coming back with me, like I said. If I have to force you, I will.”_  
“ _I can access my arm.”_  
“ _I'm a faster shot.”  
_“ _Just get out of here. Before they find you,” he turned to leave, “my place is here.”_

 

“ _On your back crying out to be fucked like some common whore?”_  
_Shiro stopped dead in his tracks and sighed, letting his arm activate. “Look what you've gone and made me do.” He tilted his head to see Matt with the handgun raised. “I don't want to hurt you.”  
_“ _Same to you, Shirogane, but I'm not having Haxus hurt me again.” Matt kept gun trained on Shiro's person._

 

“ _Take them both.”  
__They both whipped around to find Zarkon with a group of sentries. Shiro stilled automatically at his presence. He wasn't allowed to resist the Emperor; no one was. He let his arm deactivate automatically and dropped down to his knees, head bowed low. His ears pricked as he heard the struggle beside him, and watched from the corner of his eye as Matt was shoved roughly to the floor face-first. Zarkon stepped forward slowly until Shiro felt claws twist through his fringe. “Take this dreck to my quarters. I will deal with this one first.” Shiro twisted his head around and watched as Zarkon advanced on Matt. He clenched his teeth together, glaring into the ground. He shouldn't have come here, he knew the risks. Just like how Shiro had to face the consequences of his mistakes, so did Matt._

 

_He heard him scream in agony and something wet-sounding splatter. Matt screeched. At least he was still alive._

 

-

 

The integrity of the arm was fine, and the subject's dreamscape yielded results she could use to her advantage. The human it dreamt of was one it was close to. Not the closest, but it would do. It would wake soon, so she needed to craft her set-up. She stroked the white strands away from its face. “You take so well to manipulation, Champion,” she crooned. It wouldn't hear her. It didn't matter if it did. She'd strip the dreamscape back, keep the parts of use, and keep it in a state of unbalance.

 

They should never have tried to tell her what to do.

 

-

 

Groggily, he awoke. Shiro blinked slowly. _Where am I? The witch had me last but where is she?_ No idea, but the fuck was up with that dream? _I know. Thank fuck Matt's not here, even if he's with the rebels._ We'll find him, get him back to-

 

Shiro's ears pricked at the small grunts and the sound of feet against metal. He couldn't raise or move his head; completely locked in place. “Who's there?”  
“S-Shiro?” He tensed. Was he imagining Matt again? It must be, he just had a dream about him. “Matt? Is that you?”  
“Y-Yeah,” he heard coughing that quickly became a rough retching sound, “Z-Zarkon, he...he,” Shiro could feel his stomach churn as he heard the stumbling feet come closer, he was barefoot, because it sounded just like sweat-covered feet against metal. No, no it was just a dream, it wasn't _real_. There was no way that Matt was here, that Matt's hair had just came into view, that he was missing an eye. “No,” Shiro's voice cracked. His body tensed in the bonds as Matt collapsed down against the table, shaking hand grabbing at his prosthetic to steady himself. “H-He took...took-” Matt coughed blood up next to him as he keeled over, hand gaining no purchase on the table as he crashed into the ground.

 

“You're not real, this isn't real.” The smell of blood, that metallic scent, moved its way up his nose into his head. _It smelt real but it wasn't_. “S-Shiro, h-help me, please.”  
“I'm bound, I can't, I can't help you.” Regardless he still tried to pull himself out.  
“H-He's coming for you next, said you n-needed to learn...no escape.”  
“This isn't _real_.” Shiro's voice rose, and he started to repeat it like a chant that grew more and more laboured and erratic as Matt pulled himself up. He felt clammy hands against his face, and Matt leaned in close. The sides of his mouth was torn and blood ran from his nose. “S-Shiro, I-I'm sorry, I thought – I thought I could save you-”  
“You're not _real_!” It was all he could repeat. The eye socket was empty. It was just like when he'd prised out Nadiva's. That was it, it was all just being pulled from previous memories, that made sense, that was within reality, this wasn't. This couldn't-

 

“So this is where my _kragna_ is. It is an improvement, the human, is it not?” Shiro felt his stomach drop as he heard Zarkon's heavy footfalls. Each boot against metal echoing around them. Matt whined and whimpered next to him as he slipped off the table again. Shiro could hear this nails scrabble against the ground. This was too real, they were never this vivid. His heartbeat was in his head. It was too much. No, no, no.

 

“Stop it!” He screamed.

 

A large hand covered his eyes.  
“I will punish you myself soon, _kragna_.” Shiro's body gave out.

 

-

 

Haggar reapplied another breathing mask as she placed it in the tank. The subject had responded well to both illusions. Yes, it certainly would make augmentation more enjoyable for a while. She could always blame it on the medication. What a terrible side-effect. That would worry the others, which is what they deserved. After the subject had spent two vargas in the tank, she had to relinquish it to the Emperor, which played nicely into the illusions. She'd strip a little back while it was knocked out. At least the scratches would heal, and it would stop the meddling.

 

-

 

He was buried in soft sheets. Shiro lifted his heavy head, rubbing the skin. He had a headache again. He let his pupils roam the room, realising quickly where he was. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he searched around for its occupant, but found they weren't present. Shiro ran a hand through his hair and glanced down at himself. Naked again. Of course he was. He flopped back into the sheets. He might as well enjoy this small comfort as his head started to catch up. He was in the labs. Now he was here. Wasn't Zarkon down there? He heard him, but then, Matt was there all beat up. Was he...was he hallucinating all of it? He searched his memory, but everything was fuzzy and he couldn't focus. He groaned to himself; there was no point stressing about this now, not with Zarkon coming back at any dobosh. He probably didn't need to be a _kragna_ so that was a plus.

 

The mattress sunk as Shiro pushed himself up.  
“Here.”  
“Yes, my Emperor,” Shiro crawled over the sheets and settled in front of Zarkon, head bowed down. Just as he liked it. The last time wasn't so bad, but then the Commander was on the other end of the call. “You will accompany me to meetings.”  
“Yes, Sire.”  
“You will be silent.”  
“Yes, Sire.” Shiro let Zarkon raise his head. “Before that, amuse me.” He pressed a bottle into Shiro's hand, and he understood the unspoken command. He would be a good boy, that was what was required. He crossed his arm over his chest and bowed his head, “anything for you, my Emperor.” Shiro rotated around and dropped his face into the sheets, ass raised for Zarkon's viewing pleasure. He snapped the cap up and squeezed the contents over his fingers then slowly brought them round, teasing himself open.

 

-

 

He was certain Zarkon was trying to make him moan out as he gave a sharp thrust upwards. Shiro clenched his teeth together tightly, taking the hit to his prostate. It felt good, a little painful but still good. He heard Trugg snort in amusement, while Gnov remained impassive, like she had for the entire meeting. Trugg, on the other hand, had spent plenty of time sniping comments about him being a whore for dick.

 

She wasn't right or wrong. Shiro tensed and de-tensed himself around the Emperor, making small movements with his hips. He'd been doing a good job, at least he hoped, keeping Zarkon sufficiently aroused. The Emperor had came once already, so that was a positive. Clawed fingers pressed against his lips, and he opened them obediently. They filled his mouth as they brushed against his tongue and teeth, making it tickle of all things. Zarkon and tickling was not something he would have ever considered in the same thought.

 

“What is being done to expedite those seeking to leave Central Command?” Zarkon tilted his head at Trugg.  
“We have two Druids at each of the docks, and we'll be using the guards that have been cleared too, Sire.”  
“Yes,” Gnov sniffed, “as mentioned, Emperor, we have interviewed over a quarter of Central Command's guards. I am still uncertain how we have not found the culprit, considering I am reaching guards that don't even work in that part of the ship-”  
“It matters not where they work. I will not let the Blade of Marmora make a mockery of me.” Zarkon growled. He pushed his fingers deeper into Champion's mouth as he pulled him backwards into his chest, giving another sharp thrust. “Like the Altean stain, they will be purged from the universe by my hand.” He continued thrusting into Champion, each harder than the previous. This was his preferred method of venting his frustrations, and on that thought, he decided better access was required.

 

Shiro's body was slammed on top of the table right in front of the other two. His head was pressed down into the metal, eyes catching Gnov's haughty gaze before he quickly screwed them shut and bit down on his lip. Zarkon buried himself all the way in; the cool fabric pressing against his naked thighs. Then he started thrusting, and Shiro's teeth broke the skin.

 

“Once they are gone, once Voltron is within my possession, all the quintessence of this universe will be _ours_. All lower lifeforms will fall in line, just like Champion here.” Zarkon tore through the skin, smearing the blood against the tense paleness. Such a pretty colour, such a lovely metallic smell. “Does it hurt, Champion?” He relaxed the grip on Champion's head, and he nodded yes. “Does it feel good?” Another nod. “Do you fear it?” At this, Champion tilted his head around, bloody lips open as if to speak. Zarkon nodded as he slammed himself back in. “N-No, Sire. It's normal - Galran way of d-doing things.”  
“Correct.” Zarkon tore more flesh away over his ass cheek, rubbing his claw over the shreds of skin, dusting them from the body. At least Haggar would make it less like cheap fabric in due course.

 

“This business around the Blades seems like a distraction from the rebels. We will get the Red Lion, Sire, and then the others will be yours. You can return to your rightful place as Black Paladin.” Gnov cleared her throat, trying to move the conversation back. So much as the Emperor's amusement was paramount, she would prefer to get back to work, even if she was being paid to watch this in front of her. If it was any other slave, she wouldn't have minded. Just this one she didn't like. It hadn't done anything in-particular, and she knew her issues laid with her ex-mate, but just _knowing_ that he'd rather bury himself in a lower creature like this hurt emotionally, and worst of all it hurt her pride and dignity. She wasn't desperate enough to need gratification from Janka, and certainly Ranveig, the dickless creep.

 

Zarkon rumbled in agreement as his body tensed. By the look on Champion's face; well what she could make out, he'd came. She wrinkled her nose at him. It was a shame that Zestera turned out to be a useless dreck in the end, it would have been nice seeing them cut Champion open a bit more. If they had accidentally killed him, well, it wouldn't be much of a loss. She noted Trugg studying her; they'd talk afterwards. For all her rough and coarseness, she wasn't bad at giving advice, and as Gnov learned recently, making cakes. They would chat later once this meeting was over.

 

-

 

“Incorrect.” The crop struck his inner thigh with a crack. Shiro could only clench his fists and jaw tighter. “Again. What are you?” Shiro had answered human, which was wrong, nothing, which was also surprising wrong as well, and just then he'd answered a slave in all capacities. He understood why he was being whipped, because obviously he was too stupid to grasp what Zarkon was asking him, and his stupidity needed to be beat out of him. It was just, it'd _help_ to have a hint. “A weapon?”  
“Close, but incorrect.” This time Zarkon cracked the crop over his stomach and he cried out. “I...a...am I property of you, the Commander and the Empire?” Shiro steeled himself for the next strike. It never came. “Correct.” That was a pleased rumble. Shiro did good. “Remind me of the order in which you serve?”  
“That's simple, Sire. You first, as you are every slave's master, and then it is the Commander, and when I am allowed to go for field testing, any Galra of authority, such as Lieutenant Haxus.”  
“Correct.” Another pleased rumble came from his throat as he moved forward, running the crop down the side of his face. “You will remember this.”  
“Yes, Sire.”  
“I was also informed you misbehaved for Haggar.” The crop tapped twice against his cheek. Shiro let his head drop, knowing exactly what was coming. He took a deep breath and slowly looked back up. “Then punish me for my insolence, my Emperor.” Zarkon stared at him for a few ticks, before the crop pulled away. Shiro watched it raise higher and higher, body feeling the numbness settle. This was normal; strange, but normal. Especially because he was a lower life-form, a misbehaving one at that. This was why he had to be compliant; he was wasting their time, always having to discipline him.

 

-

 

He was told to expect only cuts and bruises, not this. It didn't matter that they'd already set his jaw back or bandaged him up, or even given him quintessence again. Ulaz scrunched his face up as he peeled back the bandage over his face. That was going to make eating difficult for him. “Oh, Shiro,” he tried to soothe as he dabbed at the sweat-soaked skin with a damp cloth. Shiro just laid there quietly looking at him and then Thace when he hurried back in with a blanket, the med-kit, and some more pillows. Between them, they got him comfortable. They could both smell it; the Emperor's over-powering and repugnant scent clung to Shiro.

 

Compared to yester-quintant, which was relaxed bar Shiro almost causing a fire in the kitchen, Ulaz was terrified to find out what had transpired earlier. To gain these wounds, and especially those to his feet, he must have stepped out of line. With who, he didn't know.

 

“Is there anything else you need?” Thace gripped his shoulder, the touch bringing him back. “N-No.”  
“Do you want me to go?”  
“I would prefer you stay. Shiro, would you like Thace to stay?” They watched him nod his head slowly, reaching a hand out. Ulaz took it and settled closer to the sofa. A few ticks later, Thace settled down beside him. Their eyes caught in silent agreement to stay with him until he fell asleep.

 

It didn't take as long as they thought. Ulaz pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. “Is it bad I know he prefers it this way?”  
“No, it just means you have a damn good eye for observing.”  
“I feel bad letting him sleep here.”  
“You know better then to move him,” Thace smoothed his arm and sighed, looking down at Shiro. “I see what you mean now, about the excessive force.”  
“It's not even the worst.”  
“I know, that's what I'm scared of.” Thace motioned for the other room, and Ulaz quietly followed him out.

 

“I'm worried about him, but still worried about you,” Thace shut the door behind them as he moved to the counter, “I'm worried you're going to have a breakdown yourself.”  
“You know I am waiting on the call. That is my hope, that it will be soon. I agree there is...” he motioned with his hand, “an unhealthiness about this.”  
“That's an understatement, and I get you can't just leave him either. Does he know, that you're not in the best of places yourself?”  
“He is aware I have some issues, but I cannot add to his guilt either. There is very little I am able to do or say that wouldn't have me considered too suspicious, especially in this climate.”  
“Do you mean with Sendak?”  
“Yes,” Ulaz crossed his arms over his chest and sighed heavily, “I know you worry about me, and you know I love you for it, but recall who is senior here.” Ulaz offered a small grin that usually, would have Thace smirking, but not now. Even if it was quiet, it was besides the point.

 

Thace moved towards him, planting both hands on his shoulders and grabbing them tight. “Don't say that out loud! It doesn't matter if he's asleep or not!” He whispered roughly.  
“I know his hearing range cannot pick this up, so do not worry yourself!” Ulaz whispered coarsely back as he took hold of his wrists and eased them away. “I trained so many of you, and I know what I am doing. It is why I have asked Kolivan to bring him back, so I can leave the confines of Central Command and focus on operations and handling him so at least he will be safer. Then I can get him better and send him back to Earth.”  
“I just want you to be happy and safe. I don't want to see Sendak's scarring on you again,” he ran a hand over his chest for emphasis, “and I know you said it was the drugs, but if Shiro ever hurts you-”  
“I know. I do not think that will happen.”  
“You can't be certain.”  
“No, but you forget who has been his medical officer since he came here, and the only Galra on Central Command who knows the most about his species. I know his body better then he does himself. Do not see my concerns for Shiro as a threat to my loyalties; I promise you they will never change.”

 

“I'm sorry.”  
“I forgive you,” Ulaz gave his mouth a small lick, “the situation is not ideal, but it will not be forever.”  
“I know. You know,” at this, Thace moved in very close, pressing his body flush against Ulaz's, “he said we should try and work in the same place.” There was a devilish little smile on Thace's lips that amused Ulaz. “Did he now?”  
“Yes, he says we suit each other,” hands smoothed down his back, “and we should 'do the thing to become mates', as he so eloquently put it.” The hands found themselves sat on Ulaz's hips, and they stared at each other for a few heated ticks until Ulaz found himself having to stifle back a rather undignified moan as teeth grazed against his lips. “We need to be quiet, remember?” Thace whispered into his mouth, golden eyes heavy as he pulled away slowly.

 

-

 

He was glad that they had nothing important to do except do some grocery shopping later. For the most part, Ulaz let him nap or read the Empire's Code of Conduct book. It was probably the most well-worn of all the books he owned, bar one tome that sat on the highest shelf along with a smaller but newer looking one. He understood bits of what he read, but thought it practical to try and learn. It helped not to think about yester-quintant; well, what he remembered prior to seeing the Emperor. It was all still so foggy, like he could almost remember bits but the rest of it was out of reach. It was unsettling and he didn't know what to think outside of being told he misbehaved for Haggar. It was reasonable to assume he probably did, but he couldn't remember for certain.

 

He turned his attention back to the book in hand. The sub-section he was on was regarding abuse of position. Shiro paused, mind flitting to when Sendak sent the officer out the airlock. Then what happened at the brothel. Then there was Haxus who got in trouble as well. What Ranveig did. The section only applied to abuse from citizens upwards. That made sense. Slaves were separate, that was probably why they received the jobs and orders they did, to stop this from becoming rampant. His mind flitted to Keith, grateful that nothing compromising ever happened between them. Even if Keith had a crush, he was pleased he never abused that. Admittedly, he'd had to have noticed, which he didn't. Memories of when he'd dreamed and imagined him flickered across his mind's eye, and he settled back into the blankets as he set the book down. His cock twitched, frustratingly, as he closed his eyes and let his mind fall away into the gutter. He'd go along with this, but he wasn't going to make Ulaz's sofa filthy either.

 

He paused for a few dobosh's, frowning at the floor. Like breaking in a car to avert crashing into someone's rear-end, he'd forgotten what he was thinking about. Code of conduct, the Commander, slaves having no rights, Keith. Yeah, that was it. He blinked, centring himself again. Perhaps he should meditate instead. That'd help him focus. It was probably better for his head as well, and maybe he could dig out what was bugging him. Whether that was a good idea remained to be seen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was surprised to use Matt, but thought that might work best first. Regarding Haggar...I have to say I am kinda erring that she can bring people back, but twisted and kinda fucked up - like we see with Myzax back in s1, because okay they only said defeated the Champion, but considering the arena from what we know/have seen in canon, it's like ??? Also why she wants bodies so quickly. It does have to be fast, otherwise they just stay dead. She would also use a shit ton of quintessence - like Zarkon in s3.
> 
> Aside from that, because I am /trying/ to back ahead of schedule so before I go to download I can release a chapter, then have one for when I come home, I am hoarding them. Chapter 45 is two scenes away from being done and another long on. I can very happily confirm it is not horrible or painful, just very silly and very fun (it's my burning trash-heap of a chapter). Even better, here's a snippet for you all!  
> -  
> He would rather be in the arena right now; this was a fucking farce. He was out shopping, with his Galra buddies, for clothes. He let that sink in, then bit his arm again. Yup, this was reality. He looked around, wondering if he would spot Adam or Keith or someone. He was waiting for a hallucination to start at this point. He didn't want it; he never did, but at least it would distract him from this. This being Hepta waggling something on a hanger at him. “Please say it's not a dress this time.”  
> “But you would've looked great in it!”  
> -  
> I'll see you in around Thursday-Friday for the next update (for this week). I still plan to keep a steady update schedule, but just want content for you all ^^ hope you enjoyed!


	45. Tangled Trysts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I've had a migraine for most of the day today, but thought to get this out now. I finished it last night in the end, but didn't edit until a while ago since there were some issues I had with the smut.
> 
> This is by and large a very stupid chapter, we get to see some playful sides of relationships, which is nice, and we finally have actual Thulaz smut after...45 chapters. Like, full on, here it all is. A little something else as well near the end involving a little Hepta lad. If any of you recall me in the a/n's saying, I wanted to write a piece where they go to the space mall...think of this as a space mall version 1.
> 
> I think this turned out long - its about 18 pages in my file - because of the next few chapters are not going to be good, and I need to start fixing up some loose ends as well. Not necessarily for next chapter, but for coming ones. So yeah we may get snippets, but for full silly things? I can't say. Also note that folk are getting drunk so drunk chatter riddled with 'typos' later. I've tried to keep it close-sounding enough for it to make sense, but if english isn't your mother tongue, pester me and I can tell you what it's supposed to be (and apologies as well if its confusing).
> 
> So I hope you enjoy, and thank you for all the comments and kudos recently ^^ it makes me happy you guys engage!

Shiro enjoyed getting to see Kaleska again. They had a good catch up, and an even better sparring session. The new crop of gladiators weren't bad either, albeit terrified of Kaleska's stature. He couldn't blame them, she was imposing initially. He could get why they were scared of him, but as Ulaz had awkwardly explained, it was likely because they'd heard stories about his viciousness in the arena. He didn't deny that at all, but as he had explained a million times before, he was there to entertain and it was what the crowds and Zarkon wanted, and he couldn't to deny that. Ulaz was wonderful but too sweet and passive. Shiro wanted to protect him from the nasty things of the universe. Even though he couldn't, really, and had probably been through and seen less then him considering their ages.

 

He brushed his hand over his cheek. It was bruised now, and the scar was faint enough that it wasn't notable unless you were looking for it. Ulaz had given him quite a bit of quintessence, and been making sure he remembered his medication in the morning. He'd asked him to remind him, because lately his memory was foggy. Shiro'd remembered a few things; like he'd imagined Matt and the Emperor, and that he had to be silent in the labs. Like when he was around the Emperor. Then there was something about killing anyone who stood in the way of the Empire itself and that there was no point in escaping, because he'd get in trouble. What if he had tried? Maybe that was how he misbehaved? He didn't know.

 

“What's wrong? You stopped again.” Ulaz squeezed his arm and Shiro broke out of his thoughts. “Just memory stuff, that's all,” he offered a weak smile. “One of the side effects is some short-term memory problems, but are you remembering to write things down?”  
“When I, uh, remember.” Shiro awkwardly glanced at the floor. He'd been feeling extra-tired as well lately. Ulaz let him nap, which maybe was a bad idea. He wasn't sure. Ulaz smoothed his cheek and ushered him onwards. “My biggest concern is the hallucinations.”  
“I know. I haven't seen the others lately, but not sure if I had one in the labs.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I don't remember, this is the problem. It was either a vivid dream, or a hallucination. Matt was there, and the Emperor. I remember something, maybe? What's Code E-P-A? What constitutes a threat level?” He looked up at Ulaz – this was a recent detail he recalled, but wasn't sure from where. Ulaz stopped this time and chewed his lip. He quickly got out his communicator and motioned Shiro over as he typed something out.

 

It took him a few dobosh's until Ulaz pulled him off in another direction. “Where're we going?”  
“I've asked Hepta to meet us at a cafe near Thace's office.”  
“Why? Is that bad? Did I try to escape the other quintant?”  
“No, no there was nothing that came out. I feel I have heard it before, but I do not know how you would know it.”  
“Why's that?” Ulaz didn't answer as they weaved between the passing Galra and the odd other alien. Some would cast their gaze over him in curiosity – perhaps because he wasn't with Sendak, or because the 'illusive' Champion as Commander Sin- Sniv said, was actually outside. He rubbed his hand over the collar, thankfully clearly on display. He didn't want a repeat of the last time where Ulaz dragged him down that alley and he had to hide behind crates.

 

Eventually they got to the cafe, and Ulaz ordered them both some drinks. The two settled outside, Ulaz checking his communicator again. It looked like Shiro wouldn't get an answer, at least yet. He gave the drink the sniff test and gave it a few blows, before sipping it slowly. It tasted good – like it was Iscantian marbaberries, but more summery. He hummed in delight and sipped more, settling back in the chair. This was nice; the quintants that were relaxed like this. He wished 'normality' was his rewards from winning in the arena, and that in itself felt strange to think about considering his old life. He really had changed since he came out here.

 

He watched absently as a Galra and an alien passed by, a collar not dissimilar to his own around their neck. They weren't on a leash, so likely had been kept for a while. Their eyes caught for a tick, before they flicked their large pupils forward back to their master. That was another thing he'd noticed as he sipped his drink again. He guessed it was the whole 'only the strong survive' mentality. From the gladiators and the concubines he'd met, there was truth in that, even if in enough cases they consigned themselves to this life. His pupils flicked to Ulaz, still caught up reading something. Some of the Galra weren't bad when he got to know them. Some, and he smiled as he watched Ulaz squint then frown at the device, were quite attractive and considerably better then the people he knew back on Earth. He may not be the best-behaved slave, or the biggest, but by the law of the arena he was the strongest. He nipped at his arm again. He was here. This was real.

 

“Sorry, I took the wrong lift!” Hepta waved them down and came to a halt, panting heavily as he flopped down into the chair next to Shiro. Ulaz nodded as he rose. “I will be back in half a varga. You can stay here or move on, but message me so I am aware, understand?”  
“Yeah, yeah, Empire's property, Sendak will murder me if I lose him-”  
“Hepta, this is serious.”  
“Ulaz is right, someone was stalking us once and Ulaz beat the shit out of them.”  
“I did not 'beat the shit out of them', I simply put them in their place.”~  
“Yeah, sliding across the floor,” Shiro offered a toothy grin, but Ulaz didn't respond as he took out his pipe and lit it, eyes locked on Hepta. “Do you understand, Officer Hepta, the type of trouble we will _all_ be in if you let anything happen to him?”  
“Yeah, I do, actually.” Hepta sniffed as he folded his metal arms over his chest. Ulaz nodded and bade them both farewell before stalking off quickly.

 

“I know he's a worrier and all but there's no reason for him to get so stern-sounding. I hate being treated like a kid.” Hepta grumbled, letting his head flop towards Shiro. Shiro nodded in agreement as he finished the rest of his drink. “I get that a lot from the Commander and him. Like, Sendak carries me around almost everywhere back at home-”  
“That's actually hilarious though.”  
“No it actually isn't.”  
“Yeah but think about it,” Hepta leaned in close, “it's hilarious _because_ it's Commander Sendak. He's like, terrifying to mostly everyone and no one would expect that. Aw man, if I had the balls to joke at him about that,” his grin was ridiculously huge, “I really would.”  
“So why don't you?”  
“It's hard to know if he can take the joke. Sometimes he can and other times he really cannot. The frown doesn't help either.”  
“Yeah, that's just his resting face – resting frown face.”  
“Or scowling.”  
“Do not remind me,” Shiro collected the mugs up and handed them to the waiter, thanking him quietly. They offered a polite smile in return and left the two.

 

-

 

 _Sorry for the delay in messaging. Regarding when he was back at yours and he went to leave, Shiro said he was thought he was not out for as long.  
_ Ulaz sighed as he sent the message. Things had been hectic, which was what life was like these quintants. He never knew a slave of all things could firstly cause so much chaos, and secondly be the central point that connected him to so many Galra he never expected to interact with. Things had a strange way of happening, and perhaps this was why he would be grateful leaving Central Command. It really was a terrible place to be.

 

The communicator alerted him to a message, and then another came in. The Commander was fine, so that was good, and Thace was now free. Prorok had finally taken lunch. He was a strange Commander himself; someone who got thrust into the role who didn't want to be, well according to Thace, but still kept trying to prove himself against increasingly ridiculous odds. Thace was often confused how he still had a job half the time. He said he still missed Commander Mar, who admittedly wasn't that bad a guy if he wasn't loyal to a fault. He'd met him with Thace when they were on a covert date night. Just like tonight.

 

Shiro and Thace meeting was terrible, because they both gave him _looks_ that he was a little bit powerless to remain resolute over. Yes, he wanted date nights, but he didn't want to leave Shiro alone for too long, mainly because he was rightfully worried he may stumble upon the, admittedly, well-hidden Blades gear. Thace got that, but was also adamant that it was hidden enough and Shiro didn't seem the sort to go through his stuff, so he would be fine. Which was true. He groaned as he reached the offices and found Thace stood waiting for him, a small grin gracing his lips. So much as he wanted to kiss the man right now, not at work.

 

“Welcome, _officer_ , to Fleet Management and Short-Range Communications.”  
“Good morning, _Lieutenant_ Thace,” Ulaz gave him a curt bow, drawing his arm across his chest, “thank you for responding to my request.”  
“It is no problem at all. My, your superior officers _must_ be so pleased that you go above and beyond your station, considering you attire,” Thace motioned to Ulaz's civvies as he moved forward and around him. “Y-Yes, well,” he sniffed, “I do thoroughly enjoy my work, sir.” He could _kill_ Thace right now, especially with how close he was standing - and he had the nerve to call Ulaz reckless! He almost yelped when claws brushed across his lips.  
“No one's in the office.”  
“Later,” Ulaz hissed, flashing his teeth in warning. Thace hummed in amusement and motioned him to follow. Ulaz smoothed his shirt out, trying to ignore the way he was purposefully moving his hips. _Damn seductive dreck._ At least no-one was about, so they could drop the faux personas a little.

 

“So I checked into it, and you were right, it hasn't been used in hundreds of deca-phoebs. The last usage was back when Ladnok's slave escaped the labs.”  
“I thought as much. I do not understand where he picked it up from.”  
“Well maybe she told him?”  
“Do you think she would remember?” Ulaz glanced down at Thace as he swivelled round in his chair and leaned back. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly distracted. “You've seen me in civilian wear before,” Ulaz placed his hand against the terminal as he arched his eyebrow, “so why the sudden interest?” Thace only purred in response, eyes stuck very much below the belt. Ulaz growled, forcibly tilting his head up, “my eyes are up here, _Lieutenant_.”  
“ _Fuck_.”  
“Later,” Ulaz growled again, the edge of a purr to it as he moved away, “perhaps I will have to teach the Lieutenant who is in charge, hmm?”  
“Perhaps you will,” Thace called after him. Ulaz turned his head, casting a mischievous look back. “Then I will see you later, _Lieutenant._ ”

 

As he left the office and took the lift down, he pulled out his communicator. He needed to speak to Kaleska, and Hepta had been kind enough to let her know in advance. It was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to having considering the history there. He swallowed as it came to a stop and he weaved between the other Galra chatting happily around him. No one would have thought there was an embargo at the docks or that the place was effectively on lock-down, but such was the way of his people. He dipped in to a quieter spot and steeled himself as he brought it to his ear. It rang and rang, until finally a gruff voice answered.

 

“This is Kaleska, servant of the Korvek Clan-home, who's callin'?”  
“Uh, Hepta said I would be calling. This is Ulaz, Shiro's Medical Officer.” There was a long pause and he wasn't sure if she'd hung up.  
“Ya, young master said ya would. So, _Technician_ , whaddya want?”  
“I need to ask you if you remember the code they used when you escaped the labs?” There was another long pause before she answered.  
“Nah. Forgotten, thankfully, ya know?”  
“Y-Yes, of course-”  
“That it?”  
“Yes, Rudiarius, that is all.”  
“Why'd ya wanna know?”  
“Shiro knows it when he should not.”  
“My guess is the witch, best askin' her.”  
“Rudiarius...I am,” Ulaz smoothed his mohawk back, “sorry, for everything I put you through.” He had to pull the communicator away from his ear at her roar of laughter. It quickly subsided. “Ya apology means fuck all now. It's done – can't change it. Glad ya can be better fer Shiro, he's a crackin' kid, but if ya abuse that trust even just once,” her voice drew low into a deep snarl, “ya blood'll be decoratin' ma axe, ya know?”  
“I understand.”  
“Got shit ta do,” the call cut. Ulaz lowered the communicator to his side and exhaled sharply. _Gods, he needed a smoke_. He pulled out the small packet of tobacco from his bag, clicking his tongue. He needed more. He'd get that, smoke, then go find the others. By the looks of the image that had just come in, the two had moved into the markets.

 

-

 

He would rather be in the arena right now; this was a fucking farce. He was out shopping, with his Galra buddies, for clothes. He let that sink in, then bit his arm again. Yup, this was reality. He looked around, wondering if he would spot Adam or Keith or someone. He was waiting for a hallucination to start at this point. He didn't want it to; but at least it would distract him from this. This being Hepta waggling something on a hanger at him. “Please say it's not a dress this time.”  
“But you would've looked _great_ in it!”  
“It was puffy and disgusting. Besides,” Shiro motioned to himself, “I'm not exactly tall by Galran standards, and it'd just drag everywhere. I don't want to be going out and falling over every two ticks. Also,” Shiro pulled out the jacket he was quite fond of, but again it would trail over the floor, “why are pockets so low?” He looked at Hepta, who just sighed as he dropped his arms to the side.  
“Our arms are longer then yours, remember? It's comfortable to have them there.”  
“It's better around your hips,” Shiro placed his hands on his own, wishing that he had pockets for emphasis.

 

That was something; since he'd been with the Galra he'd not had the simple pleasure of putting his hands in pockets or wearing boxers. He was sure the latter was gross, but any concept of shame was gone for the few times he'd been dragged around Central on a leash, or the fact that there was still coerced pornography of him out there. Yeah, maybe not wearing pants was less gross then that.

 

“Look, we either find you adolescent clothes which will more likely fit-”  
“I'm not wearing it-”  
“-or, we have to look at the petite lady clothes.” Hepta couldn't contain the laugh as he looked to Ulaz, who had returned with another drink in his claws. He looked tired – really, really tired. “Are you okay?” Shiro asked nervously. Ulaz's eyebrow twitched as he kept his voice steady, “I will be when you stop bickering like kits.” He knocked the drink back. For a moment, Shiro wondered if he'd requested alcohol in it considering this was the fifth one in a varga and a half. He was likely itching for a smoke as well, and Shiro would happily join him. What he owned wasn't appropriate for going out. Well, it was, but he didn't _want_ to wear it out considering he'd never _been_ out with Hepta and didn't know what to expect. He wasn't going to wear a body suit either because that was just saying 'grope me'.

 

“How about this,” Ulaz finally muttered, “do you want me to help?”  
“No!” Shiro looked mortified.  
“Yes!” Hepta cheered, “oh, _gods_ , Ulaz, he's a nightmare.”  
“I'm not used to being babysat shopping, alright?” Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose, “it's humiliating.”  
“Why didn't you say anything?” Hepta leaned in, ears drooping. Shiro sighed as he scratched as his arm, “because I really shouldn't say it; you're both my superiors so I guess...” he let it trail off, staring at the floor.

 

It was Ulaz that finally broke. “Officer Hepta, Champion, eyes here, _now_.” They both snapped to attention. Ulaz glanced between them both sternly. “I am going for a smoke, and to get rid of this,” he raised the cup in his hand, “by the time I am back in ten dobosh's, I expect you,” he gave Shiro a hard stare, “to be trying something on. In twenty dobosh's after my return, I expect us to be gone. Am I clear?”  
“Crystal,” they both answered in unison. Ulaz gave a curt nod, and left the two.

 

“I think he's frustrated,” Hepta leaned against the rail as he watched Shiro fish through the rail, scratching at his stubbly cheek. He noticed the small blush and leaned in, “does he talk like that to you in the bedroom?” Shiro almost dove in to the display. He whipped his head around, a glare matching Sendak's. “ _No he fucking doesn't_.” The blush just got darker as he violently moved the clothing along, and Hepta couldn't help but grin. He was so easily flustered. If it wasn't Ulaz, it was probably the Commander. He gave Shiro's shoulder a little squeeze. “You know this is payback for shoving your fingers in my ear.”  
“You know I'm going to do it again now.”  
“I will maul you.”  
“I dare you to try,” Shiro tapped the collar around his neck, a smirk of his own there, “I believe you forgot the rules.” Hepta's ears flattened back. Yeah, he maybe did. Maybe mauling wasn't the right word.

 

The biggest success was finding trousers that fit him. The single draw-back was that they were tight. Not crushing-his-bollocks tight, but tight enough that it was going to draw attention if he bent over. It was that or something shapeless or from the child's section he'd been threatened with all quintant. He refused to yield on the latter, more so out of principle at this point. He stared over the other things he and Hepta had found. It...wasn't bad, just Galra fashion didn't seem to allot for bomber jackets or much leather-like material in casual-wear, which honestly surprised him. Even the lack of tank tops upset him. He missed the jacket he used to wear when him and Keith would go out on the hoverbikes – it was his favourite one he picked up in the city deca-phoebs ago.

 

If he ever went back to Earth, he was making Sendak go shopping with him for something that actually fit. If he had to forfeit to fucking himself in front of the crew or blowing him on the bridge – even taking him and the Emperor at once – he'd do it. Alternatively, there was that Galran tailor. _Should maybe try them first_.

 

“Please say he's found something.”  
“Yeah, he did,” Hepta looked up at Ulaz as he came to a stop beside him, “what was that about earlier?”  
“Difficult call with the Rudiarius,” Ulaz muttered, “thank you, by the way.”  
“It's not a problem. Damn though, you can really sound like you're in charge.”  
“Well I was lead Technician,” Ulaz's ears flicked at the groan from the booth, “what is it?”  
“I look stupid.”  
“Come on out and we can decide if you do.” Ulaz called back. He felt a little better having the time to cool off, and as Shiro stepped out, he brought in a sharp breath.  
“You look fine.” _Better than fine_.

 

Shiro sighed as he folded his arms across his chest. The thing that was like a frock coat, was thankfully short-sleeved; similar to the robey-thing he normally wore. It clasped together just above his pectorals and then the front was open, ending in a few pleats that sat below his knees. The under-shirt was tight, the fabric stitched in a way that gave the illusion of armour even though the material wasn't much thicker then that of a body suit.

 

“Not gonna lie, that doesn't look half-bad.”  
“Yes, it looks fine.”  
“You already said that, Ulaz.” Shiro cocked an eyebrow as he checked himself in the mirror. He could probably pull this off. “You should put that in the good pile.” Hepta chimed in.  
“I may do.” Shiro placed his hands on his hips, uncertain about how it came in. It wasn't bad, but-  
“Recall I did impose a time limit,” Shiro glanced over at Ulaz and groaned as he moved back in.

 

The next few items – since he was trying them with the trousers it seemed – were alright except one quite loose thing that anyone could easily cut off with a well-placed claw strike. Ulaz liked one shirt that accented his chest very well with how it hugged the skin. Since ultimately Sendak was paying for it, well, he was sure he'd be eager enough to see him in that. Hepta had grown progressively quieter, his eyes occasionally widening depending on what he was trying on, it amused Ulaz to no end. He may have something to tease the youngster about now.

 

Shiro poked his head around the side of the door, noting the other customers who seemed to have gravitated their way over and would occasionally glance up. He internally groaned. Apparently the Galra had nothing better to do. Again. “I'm not trying on the last one.”  
“Oh go on, I know you'd look good in it.” Hepta folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head to the side, “or do I have to order you, _Champion_?” Shiro glowered at him, then looked to Ulaz for support, “please don't make me.”  
“How about I help you, and then you can pick your favourites and we can leave.” Ulaz wandered over, and Shiro let him in with a grunt.

 

“That's what he found.” Shiro pointed at the thing as he pressed himself against the wall, and as Ulaz pulled the hanger up, he knew that if the Galra could blush, he would look like Shiro right now. “It is like a body suit.”  
“Yes, yes it is. An unnecessarily sexy body suit,” there was a long pause before Shiro sighed, “and you want me to try it on, don't you?”  
“I would perhaps like to see it considering my quintant.”  
“Don't you have date night?”  
“I do, but that is besides the point,” Ulaz handed it to him, “if you want I can help you in to it.” There was a wicked grin on his face and Shiro just sighed in defeat. “Fine. Let's do this-” lips pressed against his as Ulaz very carefully teased his clawed fingers under the shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly. Shiro opened his mouth to protest as Ulaz pulled away, but in that damn way he had, Shiro understood he needed to remain silent. _Stupid sexy Ulaz._

 

It might just be bit exciting, and might be just a tad arousing too. He bit into sore lips as Ulaz kneaded his thumbs against his chest and bucked his hips forward. One hand pulled away and slowly loosened the trousers that sat well around his hips, tugging them down.  
“Perhaps I may have to wind you up this way some other time,” his whisper was almost inaudible as Shiro raised his leg up to help him pull the trousers from his ankle. He nodded his head vigorously, mind hitting the gutter. He'd be happy with that; _real_ happy with that. Once they were removed, the shirt quickly followed and he found himself naked and needy – the latter he was trying to keep down. “I dunno who wound you up but damn are you being a shit.”  
“As the humans would say, Thace was being a little bitch.” Shiro couldn't help but burst out laughing as Ulaz gave him a wry smile, pulling the damned thing from the hanger and passing it to him. “On, you need to eat and I require a nap.”

 

After a few grumbles of protest and curses, Shiro finally let Ulaz do the clasps up. It very nicely hugged over his chest, leaving his neck and collarbones exposed. Nothing was left to the imagination. “How is this a casual thing?”  
“It is not a casual thing, that is why.” Ulaz motioned him out and Hepta cursed. Loudly. The other patrons turned their heads, Ulaz baring his fangs as a preliminary warning at some of the leers he noted. He was certainly _not_ getting this, unless he wished to, out in public. Hepta moved over, pressing and prodding before giving a small nod. “Knew it.”  
“Knew what?” Shiro folded his arms, Ulaz glancing down to note the small crease as the muscle pressed together. _Unnur, please purge by body of sin._ They were going home and he was having a cold shower. “I knew you'd look good in that and turn some heads. It does wonders for your arms.” _Yes, Hepta, his arms._ Ulaz was starting to prefer on-duty Hepta. Off-duty Hepta was a terrible perverse little creature. _Like you can talk yourself._

 

Clearing his throat, Ulaz ushered Shiro back in to remove himself from the thing, Hepta's eyes locked on him.  
“Did you enjoy it as much as I did?”  
“How are you so perverse?” Ulaz gave him an incredulous look. At that age he was no where near that bad. Hepta placed his arms behind his back and rocked on his feet, “well, I know how to keep my private and work life separate for the most part. Besides, did you _really_ expect me to be so pure and innocent?” He tilted his head up, offering a coquettish smile, “I can be a lot more confident then I let on. Maybe like yourself?” He tapped his ears and Ulaz jabbed him in the side. “Just be careful with Shiro, understand?”  
“I will, I swear.”

 

-

 

Shiro had a curfew, which he could understand. He was also hesitant about staying out for too long considering new people and drinking, which he had to watch a bit because of the medication. He didn't particularly want to ignore Ulaz's recommendations as opposed to other doctors, because he legitimately cared about him above the role he held. They were sat in a bar that was quite busy with music he didn't understand playing. It was Varah's idea to come here, because apparently they did once every deca-phoeb since they finished mandatory service. Most of them had remained serving on battle cruisers, while Hepta's friend, Verht, took up an office job in Galran Resources, which sounded just like Human Resources. _He probably hates everyone then._ Shiro had the displeasure of dealing with certain members of HR back in his old life. They had the compassion of a brick.

 

“Do you wanna play Monsters and Mana again tonight once we get back to Rorta's?”  
“ _Gods_ , I havenen't played that in deci-phoebs! Do ya remumber my shitty Paladin?” Torva, a woman with large pointed ears similar to Ulaz and pale fur to match laughed, striking the table hard with her fist as her drink sloshed over the rim of the glass.  
“Didn't you call him Zarkon?” Hepta laughed as he necked his shot, pushing two towards Shiro. Her glower was uneven at best as she guzzled her drink. “Yee, he was so buff-”  
“Like the actual Emperor.”  
“-and sadly died.”  
“Unlike the actual Emperor.”  
“Gods, I felt like _gurbage_ when I gotten the shitty roll.” Torva buried her face into Rorta, a male Galra with spikes on his chin and four dark purple stripes that made it look like a weirdly styled goatee, “a momenent of salence fer my buff and sexy Paloudin.” The table exploded into laughter while Shiro quietly drank. Zarkon was the opposite of sexy.

 

“Wait a tick...hey, Champen?”  
“Y-Yeah?” He was dreading Torva's question as she flopped down, pointing just past him.  
“Have you,” she covered her mouth, “ever had to fuck the Emperor?” _Can I go home?_ They all looked at him expectantly for an answer, and no amount of alcohol would be able to push down the lump stuck in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. “I'm unable to talk about it. I don't have permission.” He presumed he needed it to speak about it, but he really didn't want to. She looked crestfallen for all of two ticks before declaring Zarkon probably had a huge dick and she wouldn't mind. The others groaned around her. “She's had this hang-up on the Emperor for hundreds of deca-phoebs-”  
“ _Fuckin' gods, Hepta!_ Don't go broadcastin' that to erryone! Anyways,” she stabbed her finger into his cheek, “ya can't tolk, havenin' a huge boner fer Snackdak-”  
“ _That was ages ago!_ ” Hepta scowled, ears flicking in annoyance as he loosened a growl, shoving her away, “don't be such a dreck, urgh! Besides, you're there talkin' about the Emperor like some creep, ya know?” His pupils narrowed and Shiro found himself edging away. The others around the table groaned again, cradling their face in their hands or pinching their noses.

 

“Gods will you both either fuck again or just fuckin' _leave it_ ,” Varah snapped, staring more at Torva then Hepta, “I didn't come out to watch you both air your fuckin' past relationship problems.”  
“Well _I am past it_ ,” Hepta batted Torva's hand away again, firing off another warning growl, “ya do it again, and I'm gonna lose ma temper.” Shiro went to put his hand on his shoulder but stopped as Torva shakily rose from her seat, glass in hand, “meek lil dreck like ya gotta temperer? _Pl-ease_. Can floor ya any quintant of the movements.”  
“Ya wanna bet?” Hepta rose and squared his shoulders, the small tufts of fur on the back of his neck puffing out. Verht motioned for Shiro to come closer, and he did to give the two some space. Part of him wanted to have them talk it out or just separate, but he also knew fighting it out would likely work too.

 

Torva cackled and snorted, swaying where she stood. “Ya think just 'cuz Champen an' ya slave are strong, you gotta chance, huh, Mister gonna-lose-my-arms? You're a coward, hidin' out in the labs and shirkin' actual duties-”  
“ _Don't be such a dreck about Shiro or Kaleska!_ ” Hepta grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her in close, teeth bared, “ _I'm no coward, ya know?_ ” Torva snorted again and poured the contents of her glass over his head. “If you wereren't a coward, ya'd've ponched me-” she'd jinxed herself as a fist connected with her stomach. It wasn't the best strike, but the metal fists would do the damage. She stumbled backwards, the chair screeching against the floor. Rorta and Varah glanced at each other and rose from their seats. Verht followed and Shiro copied them as they pulled their seats back to watch the fight.

 

“Is this normal?” Shiro rubbed at his eyes and the other three looked at each other. “Normal in what way?” Rorta sipped his drink.  
“That we leave them to it,” Shiro supplied, watching as Hepta took a punch to the face. Rorta nodded, “soz, not used to explaining to aliens about this. Yeah, so this is standard – maybe not in Central, but out there, you know?” He pointed, presumably, to space.  
“Right.” Shiro arched his eyebrow and looked down at his glass, emptier then he remembered it being. “Also, fuckin' drecks need ta vent it from their systems. Hate 'em like this.” Varah grumbled as she pulled the table back over towards them as Torva caught Hepta's kick.

 

“Back in a tick,” Shiro raised his empty glass and moved away to the bar, stealing Hepta's discarded communicator in the process from the table. He wanted the vodka the Commander drank. He glanced back at the brawl, that Hepta was surprisingly losing for the fact he had two prosthetic arms. _Was he still struggling, even now? Or is she really that strong?_ He stood at the bar and like the time in the lounge, explained to the bartender what he was after. He took up a seat, watching as the group egged them on. They even had a small crowd forming. Shiro took the drink, thanking the server as he turned to watch. He was certain people were making bets.

 

“Long time no see, _dahfav_.”  
“Do you actually have a job, Commander Sin-Sniv, it's Sniv, isn't it?” He could argue he was tipsy at most, he hoped, as he glanced up to see the Commander leaning on his long forearms against the bar. “Your friends, I take it?”  
“Officer Hepta's, Commander.” Shiro swallowed, trying to focus on the fight. Hepta had her pinned to the floor by this point.  
“So, what's Sendak letting you out for without him?”  
“The Commander's allowing me some freedoms.”  
“Well,” Sniv took his glass from his hand, “it's nice to see you out, Champion.” He took a sip and handed it back. Shiro frowned at it, then him. “Hey, don't give me that look,” Sniv smirked as he leaned in, catching Shiro under the chin, “you look better when your face changes colour and you're riding something.” Shiro tried to swallow back the lump that hadn't left his throat. Of course he had to fucking see. _That was probably why Sendak wanted to fuck you there._

 

He tapped his collar. “You're not supposed to touch.” He kept his tone even as he stared into those terribly pretty eyes. He may have been wound up by Ulaz earlier, and that may not have subsided, but he would be damned if he made such a ridiculous mistake when he was out; it'd been a weird evening, but he wasn't going to risk freedoms he'd just been granted. “Mm, I know, but why not explore your freedoms? No one needs to know.” Sniv purred as he ran a finger over his lips, pushing his thumb ever-so-gently into his mouth. _If Galra were his superiors surely he had to?_ Pretty sure that doesn't relate to being fucked though – remember how pissed Sendak got about _him_. _Fair point. Still, uh, we need to get out of this situation-_

 

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is Commander Sniv touching up Commander Sendak's slave?” The excessively loud voice caused the two to look round, Verht stood there, arms crossed over his chest and ears twitching as he stared at Sniv. “Are you sure you want another conduct violation on your record?” Those words alone caused Sniv to back off with all the speed of a guy caught with his pants around his ankles. Shiro watched Sniv move away, casting a scowl towards Verht. Eventually, they came and sat beside Shiro. “It looked like you were going to let him eat you alive.” He quickly ordered some drinks and turned back to the brawl, finally reaching it's climax.

 

“It was...so bad when they dated.”  
“Who for?”  
“Both of them.” Verht took the drink and offered the other to Shiro. “It's not anything weird, just what you had last time.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Mind yourself around Sniv.”  
“I will,” Shiro cocked an eyebrow as Torva leapt on top of Hepta, pressing her lips against his. He heard a long sigh besides him as they watched Varah pull her from Hepta, while Rorpta hoisted him to his feet. Hepta swiped the blood from his face, giving her a drunken grin. “Are they flirting?”  
“At first, no, but the latter half was.”  
“I missed that.”  
“You didn't miss much.”

 

“You mind if I ask you a question?”  
“Go for it,” Shiro looked at him as he drank. He was getting drunk; fuck it. Verht paused for a while before opening his mouth, “what's it like, killing someone? I've always been so scared. You...you never look it.” Shiro opened and closed his mouth. “It's weird; you have a lot of power in your hands at that point – like when they're on the cusp I guess. A lot of the times I'm too caught up in the heat of the moment, but depending on who it is, I don't mind drawing it out.”  
“Is it the control?”  
“Yeah, I suppose,” Shiro peered at him, wondering if Ulaz was secretly wearing a disguise; he wasn't. Verht was quiet for a long time before speaking again. “I wish I could do what you do – like have that bloodthirstiness. I, uh, disappointed my clan – seem to keep doing it.” He scratched the back of his neck.

 

 _Since when did I become a therapist?_ “I dunno anything about you, but everyone has a part to play to keep the Empire running smoothly. That's what you gotta think of, you know, victory or death, destroy our enemies and all that. Just because you're sat behind...a terminal dealing with-”  
“I'm part of Professional Standards – a sub-department of Galran Resources.”  
“Right,” _is this universal as well? Does red tape know no bounds?_ “So actually you help keep rowdy or problem soldiers in check, making it a better environment aboard ships, I guess?” Shiro was hoping he could remember what they vaguely did back on Earth and presumed it'd work here. He ordered another drink with Hepta's communicator, who by the looks of it had to clean the space they'd fought in – Torva as well. “Thanks, it kinda helps.”  
“S'all right.” Shiro gave him a small nod as he necked the following glass. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell Ulaz about tonight, because the Commander would likely be livid with him. Shiro paused as he looked at the communicator in his hand. Hepta had his details. Maybe he could...maybe he could call him, or message? This was the best idea he'd had all quintant, aside from getting very drunk. He glanced over at Hepta as he drunkenly tried to put a chair back underneath the table, failing miserably.

 

-

 

After the quintant he'd had, Ulaz was feeling content after their meal. He'd vented to Thace, but work conversation was never pleasant over dinner. The little place Thace had chosen was quiet and cosy to the point he could fall asleep again. He softly purred at the hand that crept around his waist, pulling Ulaz close. “Do I need to carry you home?” He felt the small lick against his cheek and hummed in response. “I would not complain.” He blinked when Thace pulled him to a stop and carefully hoisted him up bridal-style. Ulaz wrapped his arms around his neck, clinging on for dear life as Thace slowly ambled along the wide and empty corridor – he had him, but they could easily unbalance at any moment. “You did not need to actually do this.”  
“I know,” Thace gave him a coy look, “but I wanted to. I don't like seeing my moon and stars so worn out.” Ulaz went to speak, but chose to make a hum of appreciation instead.

 

Eventually they made it back to Ulaz's place, and Thace gently put him down on the sofa before settling beside him, lacing their fingers together. “As much as I wouldn't mind continuing on from earlier,” Thace muttered as he moved around, “I think someone's deserving of my undivided attention.”  
“And, who might this someone be?” Ulaz arched an eyebrow, before shifting a little closer. Thace chuckled as he stroked a clawed finger over his lips, “you.” He tilted Ulaz's head up and pressed their lips together, both melting into the kiss. He pushed their entwined fingers back into the sofa, using his weight to move Ulaz down, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

 

“Let me take care of you,” Thace breathed, worrying Ulaz's lip and earning a subdued moan in response. He smoothed his hands over Thace's fur, teasing the tips of his ears. “Perhaps I should, Lieutenant.” They both shared a soft laugh before Thace rose, bringing Ulaz up with him, and they made their way through the apartment to the bedroom, hands clasped together tightly.

 

Ulaz let Thace drop him onto the sheets. As he leaned down, Thace pushed his warm hands up the inside of his shirt, the velvety fur a blissful touch against his own. Ulaz let out a long, satisfied purr as Thace planted kisses up his stomach, over his chest and then along his neck; the little sparks of excitement and need blooming in his chest and moving down as Thace kissed him again more passionately. Thace held him firmly in place as Ulaz let him explore his mouth – one that he knew so intimately, but still delighted in kissing regardless. It broke, and under mutual heavy gazes, they shared another with adoring hunger as hands scrabbled under clothes and kneaded against tense muscles – all the while a staccato of needy purrs and moans buzzed in his ears.

 

Thace trailed a free hand down Ulaz's stomach as he leaned to the side, hand caressing the length of his cock under the fabric. Ulaz arched into the touch, earning a lick from Thace. “I love you like this.”  
“Stressed and tired?”  
“No,” Thace tilted his head as he ran his other hand through Ulaz's mohawk, “just letting yourself relax.” He teased the longer strands between his fingers, “it just makes me happy.”  
“Well, _you_ make me happy. Except,” and Ulaz gave him a flirtatious little smile, “when you keep talking.” They both laughed as Thace kissed him again, but giving his lips a quick nip to scold him. “Well then, I'll just have to keep my mouth busy.”  
“Then get to it, Lieutenant.”  
“Officer, it's like you _want_ to instigate something,” Thace squeezed Ulaz's cock, stroking it slowly but with enough firmness for Ulaz to buck into the touch. He didn't get a reply, and regardless of whether they played along with their mutual kink, it didn't matter.

 

To make a point, Thace made short work of the shirt clasps and pulled the trousers down, Ulaz cooperating by pushing them away with his feet. Thace batted his hands away as he tried to reach for his shirt, slowly running a finger down his chest. “Not yet,” he purred as he traced small circles over his abdomen, “soon though.” Ulaz made a small growl, before Thace gave his thigh a quick tap to move. Once he'd complied and re-settled, Thace moved between them, gently raking his claws up and down the insides. He watched Ulaz bite into his fingers, the other arm lazily strewn over his eyes. Thace growled in amusement as he took him firmly in one hand, and teased between his legs with the other. Once he settled down, Thace took him in his mouth, pressing his tongue at different pressures over and around the head. Ulaz writhed and moaned as he bucked his hips, grabbing at Thace's fur. _Always so sensitive_. It was one of the things Thace loved about him as he purred around his cock, tongue rubbing over the soft barbs.

 

His moans and growls only spurred Thace onwards, and after Ulaz was suitably breathless and writhing at the smallest brush against his fur, Thace pulled himself up, stroking his own arousal slowly. Ulaz watched through heavy pants, then pushed himself to his stomach as he fished the lube out. Thace helped steady him, drawing another purr from his lover. “That was _very_ good.”  
“I'd hope so,” Thace pressed their foreheads together as Ulaz applied the lube with both hands to his released cock; his touch sending little chills up Thace's spine. He lazily grabbed the bottle and applied some to his own fingers and slipped them between Ulaz's ass cheeks, rubbing small circles around his entrance. He let out a low purr, burying his face in Thace's chest, his breath catching as he eased a finger inside, then another. He started slow, just to build up his need.

 

“If you want me to go deeper, I need you to lay back.” He hoarsely whispered. Nodding against the soft and rich-scented fur, Ulaz complied. Thace crawled on top of him to pepper more kisses and nips over his neck and jaw as his fingers eased their way back in, this time all the way down to the knuckle. Every twist, curl, stretch and thrust drove his lover closer and closer; the heat tightening around his fingers. When Ulaz was rocking his hips in time to the rhythm, Thace knew he was wound up enough.

 

Grabbing a pillow as he moved up, Thace pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the side. Hands pushed his trousers down, before they caught his cock between them, giving quick and firm strokes. The two shared another laugh, before Thace pushed Ulaz back down and grabbed under his knees, hoisting them over his shoulders. The pillow was stuffed under his hips and with quick movements, Thace pressed the tip against his entrance, pushing in as he dropped Ulaz down, holding his legs in place against his chest. Their purrs reverberated in Thace's ears as he settled himself fully inside, brushing his cheek against the side of Ulaz's leg.

 

As the thrusts picked up, Ulaz locked his legs around his waist, pulling Thace down on top of him. They shared kisses that left them panting and desperate for more. Ulaz kneaded his thumbs over the muscle, pressing every sensitive spot that had him bucking his hips erratically. He nipped at Thace's collarbone, then his neck. Thace swore and responded with grinding himself inside. With a hungery groan, he lifted himself back up, unhooking Ulaz's legs, and pushing them down against his chest. “Close.”  
“Mm,” Ulaz held his legs in place as Thace grabbed his hip and leaking cock and started again. His scent was muggy in Thace's nose, and he needed him writhing and moaning and crying out for him. He let out a sharp growl, slamming himself in.

 

Ulaz dug his claws into the sheets as the blood pumped loudly in his ear. He was so close, every strike imprinted to memory, every groan and hiss echoing in his head. He arched his back, canting his hips as he called for Thace. He was close and wanted him in his arms. They two embraced, and he felt Thace swell within him when he struck his prostate. Ulaz's cry hung in the room as he felt the hot come fire inside him and then his own over his stomach. He liked it when they came together. Thace had a wonderful scent, and even if the room stank of sex, their mixed scent was soothing.

 

They laid panting in each others arms for a few dobosh's, just watching each other's faces. Ulaz nuzzled into his chest, giving him a few licks. “That was good.”  
“I'm happy,” Thace kissed his head and drew him into his chest. Ulaz got comfortable and closed his eyes. He wanted a drink and a smoke, but maybe he could just nap for five dobosh's.

 

“I love you.”  
“I know, and I love you too.”

 

-

 

“How's med-bay doin' there?” Hepta waved his hand vaguely at the medical centre. Shiro looked up from the wall support, squinting at the many doors. He tried to reply with “I dunno,” but it came out as a weird groan that inflected far too high at the end. He was tired, fucked beyond belief, and had chickened out trying to contact Sendak. “Do't he live round here?” Hepta stumbled over, letting himself fall against the wall and bringing Shiro down with him. Between the grunts of pain, Shiro found himself with his head on Hepta's thigh. The two stared at each other for a long moment, before Shiro naturally slid off. The little bang to the back of his head hurt, but he only fell a few inches probably.

 

“You kay?” Hepta blindly petted at his face.  
“Slep.”  
“No, Shiro, no slep.”  
“ _Sleep_.” Shiro, just as blindly, flopped his hand towards Hepta's chest. He heard a snort and grumbled. The floor was cold and comfortable and he was heavy. “Can ya getcha off ma dick?” Shiro groaned in response, giving something a flick. Hepta jolted, but still giggle-snorted. “Gotta ge' bac.”  
“Mmm.” Slowly and with enough groaning and whining between them, the two managed to get up and stumble forwards, Hepta's hand around his waist holding him close. It felt nice; warm and supportive.

 

At some point they found a pair of guards, but they didn't know where Ulaz lived. They needed information apparently, like his full name and position. Saying 'he lives in an apartment', or whatever Hepta had said, wasn't useful. _The guards are complete drecks._ Hepta tried again but in a different way, but there was no such luck there either. “Gimme communicater.” Hepta patted Shiro's head. It took a few ticks to realise he still had it, and he fumbled for the pockets. Hepta took it and motioned for the guards to hang on. “Gonna call Snackdak.”  
“ _Sendak_.”  
“Commander Snack.” Hepta poked his tongue out as he pressed the screen and brought it up, using Shiro as support.

 

“What time do you call this?”  
“Purty time, Commander.”  
“Are you drunk?” Hepta laughed and ruffled Shiro's hair, “are we're drunk.” Shiro gave him an odd look, his face redder possibly, but let out a pleased grumble. “Shiro's real drank to.”  
“Did you call me up _just_ to tell me this? It's late.”  
“Noooooooo, no we're _lost_!”  
“Lost?” Sendak sounded confused, and Hepta couldn't understand why that was confusing. “Ya, where's Ulaz's house?” There was a long pause and a growl on the other end of the communicator. “One tick.”

 

It took more then one tick, and Shiro's face was still red around the cheeks. Hepta poked at it, then the rest of his face. _Gods he's squishy._ For every little poke Shiro would either growl or groan. “Can I talk?” He pointed to the communicator. Hepta paused, looking between him and the guards, who'd just started talking between themselves a few paces away, then back again. “Guesso.”  
“'Guesso' what, Hepta?” Sendak had returned, rough from sleep.  
“Oh, Shiro wants tachat. Get guards,” Hepta motioned to the duo casting a curious glance at them. Shiro tottered towards them as Sendak scolded him for calling so late, again. It wasn't really sinking in, but mostly because his sleep-rough voice was kinda sexy. Okay he wasn't _totally_ over his crush on Sendak but he knew he would be one quintant. It was dumb, so, so dumb and weird but he just couldn't help it. He was just-

 

“Hepta's gotta boner...address?” Shiro might as well have broadcast that to the entirety of Central Command. He could _deal with that_ , not him literally telling _Sendak_ right now. He snatched the communicator from his hand. “No I don't, Shiro has a boner for you!”  
“I am aware he-”  
“No? Dozzat feel like one-” Shiro grabbed Hepta's free hand and placed it against his cock. Hepta wanted to squeeze it to see if it was also squishy, and what noises he'd make if he did. Admittedly he had an idea _what_ noise it'd be. Everyone knew the answer to that question. “Snack-Sendak, sur, he's makin' me touch it.”  
“Then take your hand away and stop bickering. _Now!_ ” The snarl was terrifying.  
“Y-Yessir!” Hepta stumbled towards the guards and looked between them wide-eyed.

 

Hepta quickly spoke to the duo – saying some numbers maybe – before stumbling back over and flopping over his shoulders. “Slep'd be good.”  
“Yea,” Shiro yawned, rubbing his eyes as he looked around. “They want sumthin'?” He jabbed his finger in their direction, and Hepta groaned. Supporting each other, they moved towards the guards who led them towards another lift.

 

They'd been kind, not creepy ones like Shiro thought at first with their stares. No one even tried to grope him, so that was a bonus. Hepta assured them he knew where they were, and they bade them goodbye. “S'long here. Gotta get home too...urgh.”  
“Stay? Slepova.”  
“Mababy.” Hepta grunted, grabbing at his side with a sharp hiss. Shiro blinked up at him, trying to carefully reposition his arm. “Fight wound?”  
“Ya. She hit hard.”  
“Seems lika dreck.”  
“Cheaty dreckface.”  
“Sorry?”  
“S'okay, didit back,” Hepta paused, rubbing his side a little rougher. Shiro made them stop and backed Hepta into a wall. “Lemme see,” Shiro hoisted the shirt up, trailing his hands over the very fine soft fur. He pushed it back, pressing his fingers against the side of his ribcage as he peered for any hint of bruising. Hepta grunted in a few places until he jolted under his touch, loosening a meek yowl.

 

Very few things could draw him from drunken stupors, but when it was serious he could. He'd never heard a noise like that from a Galran before. “Didit hurt?” Shiro fussed, carefully pressing his palm against the skin. “N-No,” Hepta caught his wrists in his hands, eyes wide and a little breathy as he stared at Shiro, his pupils so round he could barely make out the colour. “What wassit?”  
“Don't mayter.”  
“No, tell me,” Shiro pulled his wrists away, pressing them against the wall as he leaned in close enough to smell the alcohol. Hepta couldn't look at him – looked so meek like this. So much that he could just grab his cheeks, grab his small neck-

 

No. No he couldn't do that. Shiro pulled himself from Hepta and tried to haul him up.

 

“Shiro?”  
“Yea?” Shiro looked up to a hand that smoothed through his hair, ruffling it thoroughly as they reached a door. “Good friend. Nice,” it brushed over his face to his chest, “nice.”  
“Scars though.”  
“Sexy scars. Galra like scars.”  
“Ya do?” He watched Hepta shrug as he leaned down again, slamming his fist against the door. “Dunno if late.”

 

The door opened and they found Thace there. His eyebrows arched as he glanced between the two of them. “You look beat-up. Fight?”  
“Ya, ex.”  
“I see. You're late, by the way.”  
“Is Ulaz sleep?” Shiro finally managed as Thace helped haul them both in, forcing them to sit. He came back with two glasses of water and set them down, surveying them in the brighter light that strained Shiro's eyes. “He's asleep. He's been exhausted lately.” He kept his gaze on Hepta, who had flopped against Shiro, threatening to tip him over to the side. “Banged head,” Shiro pointed to it, and Thace nodded slowly. “You feel okay?” Shiro hummed a yes. “Let us know in the morning. Hepta, you best stay here tonight – you look ready to drop.”  
“I-I can get hom!”  
“In the morning. That's an order, officer.” Hepta tensed against him, but nodded all the same.

 

Thace helped them make a small nest of pillows and blankets on the floor and moved the table away with ease. Both Hepta and Shiro watched him with eyes wide. “It's rude to stare.” Thace smirked at them both before giving them a small salute. “Bed, both of you. Now.” He hit the light switch and shut the door as he left. Shiro turned to Hepta, whose eyes also glowed a little in the dark.  
“Sometimes I've nightmares.”  
“Same.”  
“I'm gonna...take this off,” he fumbled at the clasps until he felt hands flick them aside. “See better in the dark,” Hepta offered as he pushed back the frock coat thing and placed it on top of the sofa.  
“Humans can't as much.”  
“Can see this,” he ran his finger over Shiro's jawline and down the front of his neck, stopping just over his heart. Shiro took in a sharp breath, watching the pupils soften and fingers stroke against the fabric.

 

“Shiro?”  
“Y-Yeah?”  
“Can I cuddle ya?”  
“Ye.” It was weird having Hepta here, let alone to cuddle, but he knew he slept better with someone else. Was probably safer as well for them both considering his head and Hepta's everything. Shiro felt out the pillows and settled, and Hepta came down after, scooting over and watching him curiously. “Whys your lips all bitten?”  
“Cuz are.”  
“Lemme makit better,” Hepta pulled him in, giving them a small lick, before stifling back a small giggle as he looked away. “Now it stings,” Shiro rubbed at them, eyeing Hepta curiously.  
“Shouldn't?”  
“Maybeeb try again?” So Hepta did. Shiro chuckled this time, and traced his lips. “Try across not up.”  
“Why?”  
“Still stingy.”  
“Oooh, kay,” Hepta tried a third time, and before he could withdraw it away, Shiro poked it with his own. This was stupid, but at least Hepta had a sense of humour, drunk or not.

 

“Rough kitty tongues rough. See,” Shiro did it back to Hepta, earning another little jolt from him, “like that.”  
“Like this?” Hepta did it again but softer, and it didn't sting. “Ya.”  
“Human tongues're soft,” Hepta brushed his fingers over Shiro's side, “allav ya looks soft.”  
“Ya can feel it too.”  
“C-Can I?”  
“Not below t'waist.”  
“Kay.” Hepta helped Shiro ease himself from his shirt, and Shiro traced Hepta's hand over his chest and stomach. The touch felt nice to have and it seemed to both keep them occupied, even if they were just staring at each other until they were much closer – maybe when Hepta was stroking his back. Shiro could smell the alcohol on his breath. Absently, he licked his lips.

 

He wasn't sure if that was what caused it, but they both leaned in, lips ghosting each other until they met. They both remained like that, watching each other – maybe daring. Shiro took it, pushing his tongue against Hepta's lips that opened for him with little resistance. Hepta made another meek yowl again under him, his metal hands rolling Shiro on top as they brushed carefully up his back. It broke and they blinked slowly at each other, a string of saliva connecting their lips, before they grabbed each others faces. Shiro's grip the firmer of the two as he kissed Hepta again, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He made a small purr, and Shiro took that as confirmation to continue. He tasted good, this _felt_ good.

 

And it wasn't just the feeling stirring in his gut, either. It was rare he was allowed control, and when it was handed to him, he was going to take it.

 

Sendak would be livid if this went further, but a kiss wasn't anything. They were drunk, what did it count for? He pushed Hepta's wrists above his head as he nipped at those lips again, giving them a soft lick. Why was he worrying like he was in a relationship. He wasn't. Hepta was fine, he was trusted. Just kisses, hungry Galran kisses. Shiro ignored the headache brewing.

 

-

 

“How late were they?”  
“Half a varga.” Ulaz nodded as he leaned against the sofa, a small grin playing on his face. Hepta's arm was resting against Shiro's head, who in turn had his leg strewn over Hepta's stomach. “I presume this is what having kits would be like?” Thace muttered, nudging Ulaz. He groaned, rubbing his temples, “If it was cute like that, then yes, but not with how _they_ act.”  
“Oh come on, they can't be that bad.”  
“Thace.”  
“Yes?”  
“Go wake Shiro up,” Ulaz tapped his arm and pushed him forward. _Not that bad, just you wait_. He watched Thace bend down, at first just trying to command Shiro to rise, then gently nudging him. Shiro grunted as he huddled into a ball, and Thace gave his body a more vigorous shake. Ulaz watched the prosthetic clamp down around his wrist and Shiro start to roll over, an unbalanced Thace going down with him into Hepta. This _really_ woke Shiro and in turn Hepta up. Limbs were flailing, Hepta and Shiro were hungover, and Thace was having his ear chewed off for waking them both. Ulaz laughed from the safety of the sofa, tilting his head to Thace, “are you sure?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I have made terribly mundane things fun and i kinda...like doing that with my writing. But the mundane is what Shiro needs I think as well, because so much is just so ridiculous. Also it's expanding on the empire which I think is fun. Like yes, it is a terrible tyrannical place and Central is the worst point, but they also have a culture and I wanted to show how that changes, especially between the different generations of Galra (much like rl society).
> 
> Hepta is a terrible little gremlin but babes, babes no. Sendak may not be a happy chap, and uh, yeah. That will come to a head before the end of this part, trust me there.
> 
> So chapter 46 right now is a bit ehhh. I've a little bit of pain-induced writing, but I'm gonna relax a bit and see if that shifts it. I hope it does. So yeah, sorry for the length but I hope you enjoyed it. I'll see you for next chapter.


	46. Accountability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few days, hasn't it? I've been busy writing and procrastinating because honestly? These chapters have been horrible to write. I've been weighing up certain choices, trying to work out the best course of action in a few places...working, and trying to get ready for this festival I'm off to next week, as well as getting 3 chapters ready. So far, Chapter 47 is almost done, so I can give you guys a somewhat steady update schedule before/after I'm away. So this is a very plotty chapter and oh lord the Hepta thing came back quicker. If I let this chapter be as long as it should be, then it'd be 20+ pages long. I am planning to update next Tuesday.
> 
> No real warnings for this chapter bar if you haven't worked out how messed up Sendak is, and honestly the ladies in this chapter take the win (except Haggar who is a little bitch).
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, bookmarking, commenting and giving me kudos, and I hope you enjoy the below :)

Whatever magic or science the witch had done, Shiro was pleased with the final result. Over the last three movements, she'd been making his body stronger, structurally speaking. He didn't really understand what she or Ulaz had explained to him, except that his bones would be able to take more pressure before they broke. His opponent's blade connected against his flesh arm. Shiro grunted; it hurt less than normal. _Maybe she's been at my pain receptors?_ For all he knew she could have, since he barely remembered anything from the quintants there.

 

All he knew, as he caught his opponent with a well-placed knee to the gut that had them gasping desperately for air they weren't going to get for many more dobosh's, was that the witch would tell him he wasn't allowed to talk to her unless she asked him a question. But then he kept having weird dreams or hallucinations still while he was there. The most recent one had him fighting some of the other gladiators – the ones who'd died – but they all had eyes like the Emperor. It scared him because of how real it was, and there was just one bit when he wasn't fully lucid, he thought he saw those eyes in the labs. He smirked up at Zarkon when he gave the signal to kill. He wished he didn't need it every time, or even at all. The outcome was always the same.

 

Shiro glanced down at the alien beneath him, tilting his head to the side. “No need to be scared,” he drew his prosthetic back, “I don't want to draw this out any more then _you let it_.” The activated hand grabbed their throat, the scent of burning flesh climbing up his nose as he watched the fear change to pain, terror and shock. Their body shook under his grip, and in frustration he crushed the windpipe, hearing the tell-tale _snap_. He lazily picked up the blade they'd used, tossing it to one of the sentries. The remaining opponents cowered under his gaze. _Good_. He needed to make the next one more bloody, for the crowds and the Emperor. But most importantly, the Commander.

 

-

 

The guard stepped aside and Champion dropped down to his knee, arm across his chest. “I'm happy to see you, Commander.”  
“Stand, Champion.” He watched him stand and circled around him, checking for any abnormalities. Haxus had made a fair point that Haggar seemed to roll over too easily, and in his haste, Sendak had not considered she could have ulterior motivations. He stopped, eyes catching something faint – very faint – across his cheek. He stepped closer, tilting his face to the light. “This here, who did this?”  
“The Emperor. I misbehaved.”  
“How?” Sendak scowled as he ran his claw along its length. Champion paused for a few ticks before finally answering.  
“I spoke out against the High Priestess in her lab.”  
“Are you certain?”  
“Yes, Commander.” Sendak studied him for a tick, before clicking his claws. “Follow, I have a meeting to attend, and you are required.”

 

 _A meeting, that we need to attend?_ That's...weird. _Think it's going to be like the other one?_ Yeah, if it's just sat in Sendak's lap. _Correction: riding Sendak in his lap._ He nipped at his arm again, this time not for a reality check but to bring him back from gutter-thoughts. Shiro hurried to catch up with his long strides, a smile on his face. It was good to see him again, even though it hadn't been that long.

 

-

 

Ladnok, with Kaleska in tow, was the last to arrive. Zarkon nodded at the two curtly, Shiro noting Kaleska's impassive face as she brought herself to attention, arms behind her back. Shiro very slightly altered his stance to mimic her, just in case the Emperor or Sendak thought that he was being disrespectful again. He caught a holographic display light up, a Galra he didn't recognise appearing on it. Four sentries and a Druid stood in the room, their places here concerning Shiro - specifically the Druid.

 

“Now that Quartermaster Janka has granted us his presence, I have summoned High Command to confirm Ranveig's replacement. Bring him in.” Zarkon glanced at one of the sentries, and it moved from the room. They waited in silence until it returned with a rather lanky Galra – one that Shiro recognised as soon as he properly entered the room. “Commander Throk's work and loyalty impresses me, and his spotless record pleases me,” Shiro gathered the latter was a dig at some of the Commanders, like Sendak, “so you would do well to note how he holds himself. Am I clear?”  
“Yes, Sire.” The others replied together, all eyes on Throk as he slowly moved around the table to sit next to Sendak.

 

“To other business,” Zarkon pressed his display and a map of the empire appeared before them, “providing you have read Quartermaster Janka's report, the rebels have been attacking our supply chains and stealing supplies.”  
“Why'd you think they haven't used the cannon? Think it's busted?” Trugg glanced up at the map, narrowing her eyes.  
“We do not know, but considering the length of time, it is possible that they are increasing its capacities.” Zarkon muttered as he reviewed the map.  
“We also have confirmation from a group of rebels recently caught that Slav is responsible for the design, Sire,” Sendak added quickly, “from information garnered, they do not hold a high rank within their forces. They also know nothing of the Red Lion's whereabouts.”  
“When did you obtain this information?”  
“Within the last quintant.”  
“I see,” Zarkon paused.

 

“If the cannon hasn't been used, and they are attacking our supply routes, would it stand to reason they are stealing resources from us for that?” Throk glanced around the table. Trugg snorted, “what an _astute_ observation, Commander Throk. Are they always so blatantly obvious?”  
“Well,” Throk laced his fingers together as he sat up straighter, “it would depend on what they were stealing, yes? So far as I can tell from Quartermaster Janka's reports, every route and ship attacked doesn't cater towards ship-building or electronics. Even quintessence routes haven't been hit, which you would have to agree, would be advantageous to attack.” Throk watched her mind catch up and she growled. “In my opinion, it is likely they're building up rations and medical supplies because they're looking to engage in combat.” Throk continued.

 

“Their numbers are too few,” Sendak glanced at him, “I say that based on the prisoners I have had upon my ship over the deca-phoebs. It circles back to the disjointed efforts of many factions. They have no unifying ideology; some simply wish to free their galaxies or systems, while Ozar's group want our eradication.”  
“Is this why the Blade of Marmora is allegedly working with his group as opposed to the others?” Throk tilted his head, listening intently.  
“That is our current theory, yes,” Sendak looked to Zarkon, who gave him a pleased nod. “The one that was murdered did not yield any information, but we finally have the knife in our possession on Central.”  
“Haggar is processing it now. She will report in due course.” Zarkon looked over at the Druid, who nodded their head silently. She would be attending soon enough regardless.

 

The meeting carried on about the Blade of Marmora and Voltron for a while. The Black and Red Lions were brought up, and Trugg and Gnov soothed Zarkon again about how he'd get Voltron back. Then it looped back on ways to protect their supply routes and fleet movements came under discussion. Shiro was still uncertain why he and Kaleska were here. It didn't seem that Zarkon was planning on fucking him on the table, and he hadn't ordered Kaleska and him to entertain them – something he wouldn't be able to even manage unless they wanted them to fight, which he'd considerably prefer to do instead. He shifted his hands behind his back, running his thumb against the dried blood. He wondered if the previously mentioned rebels Sendak caught knew anything about Matt – wondered if Haxus would know.

 

After a varga, the Druid vanished, and in a few dobosh's it returned with Haggar. He could never get over how they did that. He once tried to hash out the science of it in his head but had given himself a headache in the process. Hepta and Ulaz claimed it was magic, which for an intergalactic race of space furries who ran around with laser guns, swords, and axes, Shiro was inclined to just accept that magic could exist. One quintant it would make sense, he hoped.

 

“The blade contains luxite.” She spoke to the table as she brought the knife down between Ladnok and Trugg. It was then the commanders erupted into disconcerted chatter, pointing at the thing like they'd never seen one before. Shiro flicked his gaze up to Kaleska, who caught his. He raised his eyebrow as he trailed his gaze to the table then back, and her lip tugged upwards. Gnov's grievance was how they'd got hold of luxite while Janka seemed distraught at how they could use something from Diabazaal against their own kind.

 

“It matters not what the blade contains, but whether or not you are able to transform it. Haggar?”  
“It absorbs my magic, Sire.”  
“I see,” Zarkon motioned for the blade, that Trugg handed to him carefully. He rotated it in his hands slowly, running a clawed finger over the sigil on the hilt. In the past, they had lost some Druids to these blades. There was never a corpse to check, so Haggar theorised long ago that the luxite had absorption capabilities. Perhaps that was what fed the glow of the sigil. It required further study, so she could task it to one of her people. “Do you have further information about this?” He handed the blade back to her.  
“Little; the other materials are common. This blade itself is over ten thousand deca-phoebs old, but it does not respond to Galran touch. I feel,” Haggar rarely liked to feel things, “there is an old magic on this blade which locks it to the unworthy.”  
“We do not live in a kit's tale, Haggar. Break it down and see us an advantage over the treasonous drecks.” Zarkon glared hard at her as she nodded curtly.

 

“What updates do you have?” Zarkon watched as she settled and took control of the display. “The feedback on the Lion Finder has been of use, and I am searching back through the records regarding any readings on the Lions or the comet. I may need to access the Altean data banks to widen my search. Previous readings pulled have clearly not been of use.”  
“What of the Komar?”  
“There has been no substantive progress to report,” Haggar glanced at her display, face hidden from view. “Why?” Zarkon rested his elbows on the table and she could hear the frustration in his rumble. “I have not had time to review it as thoroughly.”  
“Do I need to condense your projects again, Haggar?” She narrowed her eyes at the screen in front of her.  
“No. I do not require your assistance,” meddling was the correct term, but she couldn't say that publicly.

 

“The others?” Shiro wondered if this was where they became relevant. He watched the witch perk up, if you could call it that, as she looked around at the commanders. Some of them looked to Shiro and Kaleska, and he wondered for a dark moment whether the witch had plans for her. She quickly tapped away until the holographic display shifted. Shiro's eyes widened and he knew his jaw had dropped. Kaleska even let out a deep rumble which had the occupants of the room glaring at her. She raised a great finger, pointing to the image. “T'fuck ya done ta her?” Shiro wasn't sure if Kaleska could be sick, but it looked like she would be.

 

“Improved it,” Haggar glared at her, before she smirked back up at the screen, “I am grateful this one did not die, even if I had to strip back its mind to bring it under control.” She watched as it ripped the sentry in half. “To those who are unaware, this is Project Lutka,” her gaze fell to Sendak in-particular as she continued, “after Commander Trugg gave it to me, it was fixed. Note that the wings have been rebuilt – these can now sustain flight.”  
“Is that gold I see – the scales?” Gnov peered around at her, and Haggar gave a curt nod. “it was removed from the other one. I needed to repurpose the dead ones muscles and tendons, but there was no rejection issues.”  
“I see...so what is the purpose of Project Lutka?” Gnov pursed her lips and the others leaned forward. Haggar felt pleased with herself as she looked up, watching the bright golden eyes flash in the recording. “There is a dual purpose; the first lays within absolute control. The subject's mind was stripped back to the bestial core that was adored and loathed within the arena, and the Empire's will has been imprinted within its mind. So far, this has been successful. The second purpose is within population control – be it eradication of ineffective genetics or culling rebellions.” She tapped her fingers against the table as the recording shown the subject crushing the metal head under its foot. There was very little she needed to augment with this one, although there was plenty she could still tweak.

 

“So where is it now?” Sendak stared carefully at her. Haggar studied his face as she spoke, “its home world. I recall Commander Trugg being very displeased with the place.”  
“Would it not constitute a better weapon then Champion?”  
“I consider them both weapons-grade usage; but to fulfil different roles. Champion's usage – particularly the prosthetic when it is at operational capacity, will be used for siege warfare, think front lines. Champion also has access to long and short-range weaponry, and since I could not purge it completely,” she glared at Champion who looked paler than normal, before staring back at Sendak, “this one will require ordering around, much like a soldier.”  
“Well, it is safer then letting a rogue subject go about its business,” Sendak muttered.  
“It is not rogue, it is very much under control. Note the collar around its neck? That will explode if it steps out of line.”  
“I see,” Sendak's eye narrowed, “so why give it a collar if it is under your control?”  
“As I said. _If_ it steps out of line,” she leaned in, “besides, if it perishes I will just create another – I have enough genetic and biological samples.” She leaned back in her chair smirking at Sendak. The others would pick up on this, call it a weakness. In a desperate attempt to show he is not, Sendak would cave.

 

“Otherwise, Project Kuron,” she motioned to Shiro, “is slowly coming along. _Most_ experimentation was done, however augmentation has now started. So far, I have only been able to strengthen its bones due to time limitations. It has been receiving conditioning, although presently on medication for a disturbed mental state.” Haggar didn't need to wait long as Sendak's fur puffed out.

 

“I do not see why, Haggar, the latter needs to be mentioned,” Sendak's snarl was one of the lowest he'd ever heard.  
“I am just preforming an update on circumstances as to why the project is lagging behind schedule. If you had not been so quick to break down its mental state for your own enjoyment and plans,” Shiro felt his heart skip a beat, “or whore it out at any given opportunity, then perhaps it would be in a better state.”  
“All of which have been reasonable punishments – unlike preforming experimentation _without_ him under.” Shiro watched the claws dig in to the table, still trying to understand what the witch meant.

 

“Enough of your foolish squabbling!” Zarkon snapped, glaring between the two, “Commander Sendak _owns him_. He has the final say so far as I am concerned. Be grateful I have allowed you to take on additional projects.” Haggar scowled at him, like she usually did when he was right, before looking away. He would see to her later for that look. Yes, it may be incommodious to have such a delay, but they had all the time in the universe, so what was a few phoebs? She should know better. Everything had a way of coming back around, just like the Black Lion would one quintant resurface and be within his claws.

 

He didn't know how long it carried on for until he heard chairs scrape against the floor. As he looked up; Sendak, Ladnok, Gnov, the Emperor, and the witch remained within the room with him and Kaleska. The Galra spoke amongst themselves for a moment, before the Emperor addressed them. “Regarding the murder of the agent, and as slaves, we need to address the possibility you are either involved or have knowing or unknowing knowledge of the Blade of Marmora.” He placed a hand on both of their shoulders, looking between them. “Your memories will be searched,” he said to Kaleska, “and yours will be briefly searched as they have been checked on numerous occasions.” Shiro nodded slowly as Zarkon let go of him and Haggar moved forward, digging her claws into the sides of his head.

 

There was little to check from the last time, and nothing came up. It knew of the traitors, and like most slaves, seemed to keep a personal opinion about them, but opinions were irrelevant. In a way, Haggar was saddened to know it hadn't come across an agent, but then that would restrict her access. She was about to pull out of his mind until she caught a rather new memory and delved in, curious as to what exactly Officer Hepta was doing in such close proximity to her subject.

 

“Commander Sendak,” Haggar turned to him, “remind me who exactly has permissions to have relations with your slave.” Sendak eyed her, then frowned at the subject whose breathing had just spiked. “Myself, the Emperor, my Lieutenant and his medical officer. _Why_?”  
“It is not as bad as it could be,” Haggar knew she would have to punish Hepta herself, but if she could annoy Sendak, she would do it, “I would just suggest not allowing the subject to go out drinking with Officer Hepta. It seemed to be _lucky_ to dodge a run-in with another Commander, but also,” and this time she glanced over at Ladnok and Kaleska, “he may need reminding that he cannot have relations with a slave _without consent –_ drunk or not.” Sendak glared at her, then the subject. She knew he was trying to work out whether there was truth in what she said after earlier, “would you like the druid to confirm?”  
“No,” internally she smirked as he approached the subject, casting a quick glare over to Ladnok.

 

“What did he do?” Each word was growled out slowly.  
“We were both drunk – real drunk – we just kissed. I don't know why, it just happened. N-Nothing below the waist.” Shiro didn't want to be looking at Sendak but he couldn't shy away either. “The most he was curious about was how...soft I was, so I let him touch my skin,” he placed his hand on his chest, “I didn't hurt him, and he didn't hurt me.”  
“Why did you _allow_ it?” He was pinned under the gauntlet, the claws pressing in to the point he whimpered out as they pushed deeper into his skin.

 

“Commander, ya ain't bein' fair to him,” Sendak glowered at the Rudiarius as she brought herself up to full height. “Kids were drunk, do stupid shit. Ain't anythin' malicious, that righ'?”  
“Y-Yeah,” Champion nodded his head vigorously, Sendak seeing how tense he was under his grip, the sweat beading on his forehead. “He still allowed it-”  
“If ya gonna tell him he's gotta do what he's told, whaddya expect's gonna happen?”  
“She has a point,” Ladnok folded her arms across her chest as she glared up at him, “Hepta will be dealt with – I can promise you that – and I apologise for the inconvenience he's caused you. _However_ , it is a minor infraction – it's not like they slept together, and it's not like he was the other Commander. You know, the one you should actually be worried about? My slave should not have spoken out of turn, but she speaks the truth,” Sendak let his gaze drift between them. To be scolded by a slave and someone younger felt humiliating. “I cannot let him become complacent, he needs to learn-”

 

“What more does he need to learn, really?” Ladnok's voice rose higher than she would have preferred, but her patience was wearing thin. She was worried – terrified - of how they were going to punish Hepta for being so _stupid_. She cursed his immaturity, but in the same breath herself, because he was not the same after he lost his arms. When she wasn't pouring over work, they'd actually talk like they used to, and she'd found he hadn't requested a purge of the event; said he'd get back to his old self soon enough. He hadn't. He still had quintants when she'd find him huddled in his room just staring down at his hands, nights where she'd find him up because he couldn't sleep. Trugg had been sympathetic at first, but now there was growing contention between the two over his behaviour, and truth be told she was starting to get under her skin. Sendak frowned at her for a long while before finally speaking.

 

“He needs to learn his place.”  
“Champion,” Ladnok stalked over, leaning down to look at him, “what are you?”  
“Property of the Emperor, Commander Sendak, and the Empire, Commander.” He answered quietly. She gave a stiff nod, “and what is your place?”  
“At the heels of my masters – to do as ordered.”  
“So with that in mind, it's realistic to assume you allowed Officer Hepta to do as he did _because_ as a Galran citizen, his station is above yours?”  
“Y-Yes, Commander.” He watched her turn to look up at Sendak. “I think he knows exactly what he is, and where his place is.” Her eyes burned with a fire that he'd never seen from any Galran before.

 

“He still needs to be punished,” Sendak reiterated with a growl.  
“Then a few lashes would do. Anything more is excessive and unnecessary,” Ladnok's growl was just as rough, “you and I have different methods, but not _once_ did my mother allow so much abuse against the Rudiarius, and look how she is!”  
“And if she had, it would have taken less time to break her!” Sendak went to move, but the great axehead of the Rudiarius levelled against him as two hands grabbed at his shoulders. He hissed out to find both Zarkon and Gnov gripping him tightly. “Desist, Sendak,” Zarkon's rumble was enough to bring him back from doing something stupid. He was hurt, frustrated even, that Champion would allow it, that he'd not been there to _stop it_. He was angry at Hepta for abusing his trust, but most of all he was livid at himself for agreeing to freedoms. He thought it would help Champion, but Hepta had been irresponsible and almost let some other Commander – and he would find out who _dared –_ do something to him. That he would need to pry out. It was not going to be easy, especially at what Haggar had alluded to earlier. He was sharp, and Sendak was expecting questions.

 

Gnov guided Sendak from the room, and Shiro felt incredibly small around the group. He bowed his head in gratitude to Commander Ladnok and Kaleska, honestly surprised that they'd came to his defence of all things, but stiffened when hands tightened around his shoulders. From the claws and weight, he knew it was Zarkon.

 

“You realise, Commander Ladnok, you and your slave have spoken out of turn?”  
“Yes, Sire,” Ladnok nodded curtly, “but I do not regret my decision. He may be your right-hand, and he may be the most experienced of High Command, but I will not shy away from what I view is wrong.”  
“You also realise that both Haggar and Sendak will be punishing your brother separately?”  
“I do,” she sniffed as she brought her hands behind her back, “and I do not believe he _shouldn't_ be punished. My _issue_ is how Sendak will go about it.” She took a step forward as she dropped down to her knee. “I will take the punishment for speaking out, and in turn for my slave as well, with grace.”  
“Then after this you will both follow me,” Zarkon muttered as he looked over to Haggar, “check the Rudiarius's memories.” Haggar nodded as she moved forwards, and Kaleska settled on the ground, lowering her head for Haggar. The noise that tore from her throat was one of terrible pain.

 

-

 

“What is _wrong with you_?” Gnov gripped his armour tightly as she held Sendak against the wall. When he didn't answer, she grabbed his face and dug her claws in, pulling it around to look at her, “to make such a fool of yourself this quintant is beneath you! Why do you do this to yourself? Are you trying to invoke Zarkon's ire? Are you trying to have him taken away from you?”  
“What do you mean?” _Of course that would get his attention_.  
“You think this hasn't been noted? It's like with Malvag and the Rudiarius back in the quintant, but worse. You've been warned time and time again to not be so reckless in his treatment to break him, but we can all see changes in you since you succeeded – why do you think Haggar dredged that up? She _knew_ you'd bite and lo and behold, you do!”  
“I don't _care_ about him.”  
“But you _do_ ,” Gnov groaned as she pulled away, rubbing at her eyes, “you can't fool me, Sendak, we were _mates_ , we raised a kit together-”  
“ _ **Enough.**_ ”  
“No, we are having this conversation _now_ ,” she stalked back over, batting his organic hand away.

 

“Admit it.”  
“I care for his usage-”  
“If that was it, you would have kept him locked in a cell – effectively you would have kept him like Ranveig-”  
“How _dare you_ make that comparison-”  
“But it's true. Ranveig did not care at all about the previous Champion. All he cared about was getting one up on you. Remember when Ladnok and I came over? How _angry_ you were?” She watched him snort and move his head away, jaw clenched tight as he scowled down the empty hallway. “I am not saying you view him as a mate in any way, shape or form,” she crossed her arms over her chest, “because that isn't like you.” He grunted in reply but still refused to look at her. She took hold of his ear and tugged it down, earning some pained and surprised noise from him. _He was still a fucking idiot_. “I get you're trying to keep up appearances, but taking out all your frustrations on him is unhealthy.”

 

“What do you know or care?” He was pushing her buttons, but she couldn't care less for his pettiness. “You recall my old slave? You know, the one that never truly cracked the way I wanted?”  
“I do,” he tried to pull his ear back but she gripped tighter.  
“Well I regret what I did, to an extent.”  
“Congratulations, would you like an award?” She ground her fist into his gut for that comment.  
“The next time I'm punching you in the dick, understand?” She got a snarl in response but ignored it, “I care because I do not want to see you with those regrets. I do not want to see you realise you've done something stupid and spend fuck knows how many deca-phoebs burying your head in the sand, because you still haven't been able to move on, have you?”

 

Sendak had been polite up until this point, but he knew exactly where this conversation was going, and he was not having it in a corridor. He didn't care as the hand he tore away ripped his fur from his ear; he couldn't, _wouldn't_ , discuss this here. He wanted to yell at her, fight her, but the penalty was too steep with the Emperor the other side of the door. He smashed his shaking organic fist into the wall, snarling in her direction as he pulled the bloody hand away. “What do you want me to say?”  
“I want you to just admit he has grown on you and that you care – admit he is more then just a project to you. You don't go expanding a slave's lifespan on a whim, you've got rules in place for his weaponisation when you really _shouldn't_ if you didn't care.”  
“How much has the Emperor told you?”  
“Enough. But Trugg, Ladnok, and I spend a lot of time together these quintants, and we are legitimately worried about you. Trust me when I say that you still hold authority, no one considers you weak any more.” She motioned to his arm and he slowly flexed the claws.

 

When Ranveig had taken it, she'd been disgusted with him for bringing shame upon their clans. It wasn't the loss of the limb; but the reminder of his recklessness, the loss of so many lives – of their son. She'd been adamant after that he changed, and it took him deca-phoebs to accept that he really had. Personal relationships suffered as a result of his stubbornness, well bar with Haxus, whose bed he found himself in too frequently. He knew she was aware of what was happening but she didn't do as society dictated she should; which was to beat the shit out of him. It was an insult, and it got to him back then.

 

Eventually they managed to get to the point they could speak like this and to hear that from her mouth was more comforting then he could have ever foreseen. “Sendak, you are allowed to have feelings. The Emperor has his favourite concubines, and think about the pregnant one in the prison and her master. He could have kept her, forced an abortion, but he clearly hurt enough she was sent here.” Sendak glanced up at her. Her guard was lowered and she looked tired; worried. For the briefest of ticks, he felt they had been here before. “You even castrated Ranveig.”  
“Well he deserved it.”  
“I mean, yes, he is a dreck and hopefully dead, but again, something you should not have done. Stop fearing your emotions, you're over ten-thousand deca-phoebs and you're acting like a kit.”  
“I am not,” she raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest, “and do not look at me like that.”  
“Why?”  
“You know why.”  
“Because you have to admit you're wrong and being a dreck?” He opened his mouth and closed it again.

 

“Look. It wasn't a slight or us telling you what to do. It's just you have him being reconditioned, yes?”  
“Correct.” He narrowed his eyes at her.  
“He's going to slip up, and from how much fear I could scent from him, he knows.”  
“I do not wish to be soft.” _Well it was a start.  
_ “Sendak, the only soft thing about you is your fur. What you have allowed happen or done, how the Emperor is with him...unless he is incredibly stupid, I think it is safe to say he knows you are not soft.”  
“You may have a point.”  
“From what I have seen of him, his behaviour is that of an obedient slave. The other quintant during a meeting, he did not once cry out as the Emperor had him. Trugg was her usual self, but he did not rise to her words.” She ran her hand over her crest.

 

“I have issues myself. Am I jealous that you bed him? Yes. Did I wish my late slave maimed him – killed him? Yes. Do I miss what once was? Yes, I do. Could I kill you for what you did to me? Certainly.” She steeled herself as she looked up at him, “but for everything I detest about him, I know that the root of my issues lay with you. Hating him is a pointless endeavour, much like you application of excessive force. Confront the source – just like you did with Ranveig – but do it the right way this time.” He stared at her, then up at the door for a few dobosh's. His body was rigidly set as he mulled over what she said, the typical frown back on his face.

 

“Why would you – anyone – allow me this weakness?” His growl was restrained as he looked down at her. Gnov closed her eyes and sighed. “Is it a weakness that a trusting yupper returns to an abusive master, or is the master weak in abusing that trust?”  
“I do not like the implication I am weak-”  
“You're the one who made that connection, but you can take the implications that may or may not exist as you please. The point is, Sendak, you can become irredeemably abusive if you so choose, but know that there will be repercussions for what you do. Just because you haven't killed him doesn't mean the Emperor's gift to you is a breathing and bleeding sack of meat. If that's how you see your slaves, well,” she shrugged her shoulders, “you are as bad as Ranveig.”  
“You speak like I am the only one who is cruel.”  
“We are all cruel in our own ways. Again, it is a matter of excess, and in this instance you are wrong in bringing down that type of punishment on him. Slaves, after all, do not fully have comprehension of their actions. It is why they sit below the sentries.”  
“I know this.”  
“So why do you act like a drunken kiss is as bad as if he slept with someone. He is not your mate, just your slave.” She watched his body de-tense slowly.

 

“Because I am angry at myself for making mistakes and allowances, hence my question about being allowed such a weakness.” He grit out. Usually his mistakes were punished by the Emperor, not by anyone else. Gnov let out a deep sigh and placed her hands on her hips, “and you will learn from them like every other mistake you have made and sought to rectify.”  
“You know,” he chewed his lip thoughtfully, “this goes no further, understand?”  
“I understand.”  
“I have allowed him some weaknesses – especially when he is delicate.”  
“Sendak, that's...that's a normal thing to do.” She let her arms fall to her sides, head tilted as she scrutinised him, “what did you do prior?”  
“Continue with whatever I was doing, wake him up if he passed out. That type of thing.” Sendak shrugged his shoulders, not entirely certain when allowing weakness was so 'normal'; it was certainly not what the Emperor did or he'd been taught. She just stared at him before bringing her hand up to her face. “You claim you do not want him like Yastara, yet if you continue on this path, that is exactly what you will get.”  
“Yet between you and the Emperor, you allowed that to happen.”  
“Which was what the Emperor wanted. I wanted Zestera to cooperate and be pliant enough. Eventually we reached a compromise of sorts.”  
“They disrespected the Emperor and you were harmed.”  
“I said it was 'of sorts'. I know what to do next time.” She exhaled sharply as she gave him a once over.

 

“We will talk later about the other thing you are unwilling to discuss. I agree I was perhaps caught in the heat of the moment. Right now, we should see about heading back in.” She turned back towards the door.  
“Will you be informing Emperor Zarkon?” She stopped in place and turned back to him, “I shall. We discuss much personal and work business, he remains an honour to serve. For every mistake I have made, he has assisted me to become a better commander and a better person. Know he does worry for you, in his own way.” Sendak moved forward and took her by the shoulder. She groaned and looked up at him, “what now?” He stared down at her, loosening his grip slowly. “I should thank you.”

 

“You can if you please, but your actions will speak more then words, Sendak. A word of warning; your restrictions are hampering Haggar. I could tell she was gunning for you in the meeting. I do not know fully what happened, but watch yourself, and do not let your slave be caught in the crossfire.”  
“You believe she tries to bring the Emperor on her side?” He lowered his voice as he glanced at the door. She gave him a curt nod in reply. “We know what she is like when she doesn't get her way,” she leaned in even closer, “and in confidence, she is truly more terrifying than the Emperor himself. Speak nothing of what I say.” Sendak gave her a nod of his own. Both Zarkon and Haggar could bring fear to the hearts of anyone, but with the strange magic, monsters, intellect, and weapons, she was arguably the most terrifying force within the Empire. They had once, many deca-phoebs ago, wondered what would happen if the Emperor wasn't around to control her. They prayed it would never happen.

 

-

 

“Has Commander Gnov calmed you?”  
“Yes, Sire.”  
“I will allow you this weakness once, and only once. I do not wish to see my trusted right-hand embarrass himself again like that.” Zarkon gently pushed Shiro towards him. “Haggar, we will be having words about your conduct, and Commander Gnov,” Shiro watched her look up, “neither slaves have knowledge or connections to the Blade of Marmora.”  
“Thank you, Sire,” she looked between Kaleska and him, “it was procedure to check you, if you understand.”  
“Ya, understan' alrigh',” Kaleska leaned on her axe, rubbing at her eyes. Ladnok had her hand on her arm, concern marring her face. Shiro giving a small bow to Gnov and cautiously moved towards Sendak. He wasn't sure what was happening; what any of this was about, what the witch had meant. The information he had to stand through was overwhelming and he couldn't grasp how Azea was still alive – what the witch had done. What he could have ended up as, or still may. He wanted to turn it all off.

 

-

 

Gnov had joined them on the walk back. Both her and Sendak spoke between themselves while Shiro trailed behind in a daze. They would stop to let him catch up, until Sendak got annoyed and with a hiss, slung his body over his shoulder. He let himself be carried because it gave room for his mind to switch off, even if he could feel the anxiety churn in his stomach and rise through his chest. It felt like he was being choked and constricted. Just like when Sendak wrapped his hand around his neck. When he pinned him under the gauntlet. He was expecting it when they got back – he was probably hiding his anger, but Shiro'd see it soon enough. There'd been times he thought Sendak would have him, but he didn't, but now he knew in his gut Sendak wouldn't let this slide.

 

“Have a pleasant quintant in Central. Will you be back for the other one?”  
“I will likely be in space.”  
“I see,” she looked at him, how he set Champion carefully down on his feet, “you fought well in the arena today, Champion.”  
“Thank you, Commander Gnov.” He bowed low to her, but her gaze lingered on Sendak. “My, you are very well-behaved.”  
“I could always be better, Commander.” She hummed in reply as she turned. “Do not forget what we spoke about, Sendak.” With that, she wandered back to her clan home. She had done what she could. Everything was in his court now. The talk with Trugg had been good, and she felt lighter confronting some of her issues.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:  
> \- BoM knives in canon seem to suck the druids in and it is never...explained??? I have a half-crafted bullshit reason which will be explored probably in part 2 when the BoM is going to be a lot more active.  
> \- Though in Project Kuron we know there are clones and that Shiro's a sleeper agent for Haggar, my ass was that the original intent. So when she goes all Kuro/whatever in s1 when she's like screaming at him about his use, I presume this was why the facility exists and it looks like its been abandoned for quite a while. We know she wants to clone him in this but can't. Yet is the biggest word, because whether she goes behind Zarkon's back I have no idea yet. She might, she might not.  
> \- Throk was chosen over Prorok for High Command because poor Prorok didn't get a break in canon and he tries so hard and in this Zarkon just...yells at him in the few times we've seen the guy. Also lanky noodle man.  
> \- Lutka is Slovenian for 'doll' (from what I have worked out, although I was originally trying to translate the word 'puppet'). I think that sounded more Galran, and keeps in line with the dual-meaning project names that I plan to do from here onwards if it relates to organic characters.  
> \- Sendak having feels is weird to write and I had to write 'stirrings' (from pirates of the Caribbean) for ages because that was actually easier to write. I'd stare at my laptop like 'no'.
> 
> Next chapter? Oof. If you thought it was sharp this chapter with the arguing....WELL DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU.  
> It's hell. Not hell-hell, not mind-breaking hell like the non-con and torture chapters, but if you're like me and hate tense situations (I actually struggle to write these chapters because I make myself anxious and nervous), then find something to bite or chew or whatever you do to make yourself feel better. It'll be out next Tuesday or /maybe/ Wednesday at a push depending on when my ex-gf is picking me up.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and see you in...6-7 days! Can't wait to hear what you think ^^


	47. Recompense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking out the wait, and here's my last update until next Monday/Tuesday. I wanna give a big thanks to everyone who's commented, and welcome any new readers along for this ride, because aaaHHHHHH.
> 
> This chapter can only be described, presently, as a variety of increasing internal screeches and strangled noises. Or at least that is how I feel. Even more so since I'm already in Chapter 49 and HDFGJFHJSHGJBDJ. You're really going to see how far Shiro and Sendak have come along here, and uh, yeah. More notes at the bottom on that. You will see why though he's waited so long, is what I will say (Shiro here). This wasn't as tense to write, but the escalation and dialogue were what got me at times when it was really button-pressing.
> 
> So, please enjoy my lovely readers!

As soon as they arrived, Champion wandered towards the right wing. Sendak frowned after him and followed. Champion dropped down to his knees on the floor of the cell. “I'll move if you want, Commander.”  
Sendak sighed. “I want you to come here.” Champion paused but slowly rose on shaking legs. “Yes, Commander.” He muttered as he paced back towards Sendak. “Sorry for presuming-”  
“Hush yourself,” taking his prosthetic wrist, Sendak lead him back to the atrium and settled on the sofa, patting the spot beside him. Champion looked at him, then the spot, before perching on the edge.

 

“I-I'm sorry for causing you problems earlier. For being a disappointment and weak and-”  
“No. It is Haggar.” Sendak cast him a sharp look as he pulled him into his chest, petting his head like how Shiro used to pet his cat. “I believe that she is trying to manipulate the situation for her own gain.”  
“In what way?”  
“She is trying to get me to lose the Emperor's support.”  
“I don't understand why.” Shiro muttered into his chest. Sendak let out a sigh, his breath ghosting his hair. “Haggar does not like it when she cannot have what she desires, and right now, she wants you in her lab full-time.”  
“But if she gets like that, then why don't you please her to save yourself trouble?”  
“Because, Champion, she was excessive in her treatment. Ulaz provided a good case to keep you out, so you could heal.” Shiro tensed as the claws fiddled with his hair.

 

“So why did you get so defensive earlier?” Shiro pushed himself back, bringing his hands up in front of his chest reflexively as he stared into Sendak's eyes. “Champion,” _and here it comes._ Shiro turned rigid as the hand took hold of his shoulder. The claws didn't dig in. “I was...” Sendak stared up at the ceiling before looking back at him, “misdirecting. It is Hepta and whoever that Commander was-”  
“Please, don't _hurt_ Hepta. W-We were both being idiots. I was gonna tell you, explain what happened. She..she didn't say everything.”  
“I imagine she did not.”  
“I didn't think it would matter – it was just above the waist, it started so stupidly.”  
“Then explain.”  
“He saw my lips,” Shiro pointed to the bite marks, “and just wanted to make it better, so he licked them but it kept stinging. I shown him, he thought I was soft and wanted to touch my skin – you know like plenty of other Galra have done anyway – so I thought okay that's allowed, it's not sexual in nature. Then cause we were sleeping in a blanket nest since we were drunk, he asked for a cuddle and I've...got used to sleeping with company,” Shiro glanced at Sendak nervously. His ears were pointed forward, and his brow was creased lightly, “so we did and we got close, then suddenly its happening because...” this bit was going to be the deciding factor, probably, “I initiated and he allowed it.”

 

“The point is that he should not have done that. As a slave, you are my property. He required my consent, which he does not have. You do not get to consent to others having you in any way, shape or form.” Sendak pulled him back down into his chest to stroke his hair again, the gauntlet resting over his back, the oppressive cold weight pressed against his skin. “Recall you are mine in mind, body, and soul. I believe those were your words.”  
“Yes, they were.” Shiro had probably said that, but that was fact either way at this point.

 

“Do you have feelings for Officer Hepta?” Shiro tried to tilt his head up, but Sendak kept him firmly in place. “He's just a friend.”  
“Who was this commander who almost took advantage of you?”  
“Uh, Sniv. The one from the officers lounge. He tried to kiss me and entice me to go with him for who knows what.” He felt the claws stop stroking and the gauntlet press firmer against him. “I see.”

 

“W-What exactly are you going to do?” Shiro tried to move but still wasn't allowed. It was agonising feeling trapped like this, not knowing what was going to happen next. Everything pointed to something bad and he wasn't prepared. His mind was all over the place after being invaded again, and the tension from the meeting – details and all – still weren't sinking in.  
“You do not need to concern yourself with that-”  
“I do, because if you get into trouble, the witch'll have me!” He managed to grab the organic wrist with his prosthetic and pulled himself up, planting it on his shoulder. Sendak's brow furrowed as he brought a clawed hand up to catch his face. “Why does your heart race? What are you so fearful of, Champion?” It felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest, and his body was still heavy with dread. He pushed back into the gauntlet, trying to make some space. “Champion, speak.”

 

“What did she mean by your plans in breaking me down?” Sendak set him down on the sofa and stood, stretching out his organic arm. It was eventually going to come to this. “Know that this dynamic has changed considerably from my perspective.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“While slaves are considered replaceable, and if I had to, I would accept it in time,” Sendak glanced down at him, “I would do everything within my power to keep you at my side. It is why I have asked Haggar to extend your life span.”  
“Like Kaleska?”  
“Correct.” He watched his head drop to stare at the floor. This really was a conversation he did not wish to have, mostly because it forced him to confront some home truths he was still uncertain he wanted to admit.

 

“Originally when you were gifted to me, I was instructed to train, discipline and punish you by the Emperor. Due to you insulting him, and as you now know the Emperor, you can understand the severity of which I disciplined you, yes?”  
“Remind me how I insulted him again?”  
“Bad arena etiquette. You should have been informed, but members of my crew did not. They were punished, and keeping you was my punishment. Naturally, I was frustrated-”  
“Which is why you've taken every chance to humiliate and degrade me, right?” At this Champion glared up at him through his hair, “because I'm gonna make a guess here, and tell me if I'm right, _Commander_ , but because I'd inconvenienced you, you took your anger out on me, yeah?”  
“Correct. Your insolent behaviour and that stubborn spirit of yours was something I wanted to crush to dust. It did bring me enjoyment when you would fight and writhe in the early quintants.”  
“I bet it did, like all the times you broke my ribs when we were on the ship.” Champion rose from the sofa and paced about. He was sharp as normal, but his voice held a very reserved edge. He was doing very well to keep his temper.

 

“It was early on when I decided you would suit reconditioning and repurposing. Your file I received had plenty of notes on what would effect you.” He watched Champion stop in place, head tilted towards him. “Did it?” His eyebrows raised a little and there was a strange edge to his tone Sendak could not place.  
“Yes. The thing that surprised me was how little coaxing you needed to get to where I wanted you.”  
“Well,” Champion slowly stalked over to him, “you did punish me in excess, right?”  
“I did,” he took Champion's tense shoulder, “and I think you are better-suited for this world you asked to become a part of, even if I may accept in hindsight, some of my actions were based in pettiness.” The laugh that came from Champion's mouth was unnerving, but then Sendak supposed it would make sense. “It has been why I have allowed you weaknesses when I know I have been incorrect or you seem delicate. It is why I have sought out those that looked to harm you or have,” he ran his thumb over the blood-stained collar, “regardless of the fact you are mine.”

 

“What are you trying to say to me?”  
“That I am fond of you. Not to the point of taking you as a mate – that is laughable – but for such a lowly creature, you pique my curiosity, and I would like to keep you close. You have confessed previously you miss my company,” he brushed his fingers over Champion's jawline, “and that the good outweighs the bad. So now it is my turn to be honest with you.”  
“Do you really think this was wise, telling me pretty casually? Giving me back-handed 'compliments'?”  
“I understand you appreciate honesty, and when have I lied to you previously?” He may have omitted information in the past, but for the most part he had been transparent with Champion.

 

Shiro stared at the hand, then back at Sendak. He wished he could be happy hearing this, because Sendak being fond of him made the anxiety dissipate and his chest warm with contentment that _his_ Commander would feel such things. That wasn't going to happen. He knew Sendak got off on violence, knew that punishments were punishments for a reason. It was just the fact that there was ulterior motives at play. Disgusting and fucked-up motives. He didn't have a comeback about the lying, but if Sendak was going to be honest with him, Shiro was going to be just as honest back. He brushed the hand away and took a few paces backwards. “Oh, I like honesty, Sendak,” Shiro scowled up at him, “and if you don't mind me being honest as well, you're _fucking insane._ ”  
“How is anything I said 'insane'?”  
“You're justifying to me that all the scars and burns, all the times you broke my ribs or legs or ankles, when you'd strangle me and be laughing in my ear at how pretty my blood was while it was the fucking lubrication, and all the times I forced myself to be sick because the taste of my own bile was more appealing then what you made me swallow...you now have the audacity to tell me that not only are you _fond_ of me, but you purposefully brought me to a mental fucking breakdown all because I was some social experiment? You expect me to what? Just say it's fine and all's forgiven? You think I can accept that? Accept you're sincere with your tone?” He balled his fists tightly together, eyes wild and teeth bared. If he had fur, he imagined it would be bristled out much like Sendak's when he was angry.

 

“Well you are going to have to at some point.” Sendak frowned down at him.  
“No, I don't.”  
“What do you expect to achieve in being difficult? As you said earlier, Haggar would have you in her claws, which is what I suspect she wanted by bringing it up.”  
“Who else knows?” Shiro spat. Sendak paused for a moment, “Haxus, the Emperor, Ulaz, although he never really understood the purpose of it, Haggar, a few members of High Command. Why does it matter? You are still my slave, I had free reign to make you comply as I saw fit and now you do. Just along the way, it seems I became more attached then I was expecting.”  
“You have no concept of how messed up that is, do you?”  
“Not particularly, but then you don't have the position to do anything about it either,” Shiro yelled out in frustration, swiping his prosthetic to the side, “do you even _know_ how ridiculous you sound?”  
“I would have thought it would please you. You always asked to learn more about me.”  
“Your lack of empathy is one thing I'm pretty well-acquainted with!”  
“How?” Sendak growled, “would you prefer that I treated you like Ranveig did the previous Champion?”  
“At least I would have known where I fucking stood!” Shiro snarled loudly, taking a step forward.

 

Sendak growled again, rubbing at his eyes. “This is why I do not discuss these matters. You are clearly too stupid to understand-”  
“No, I understand perfectly. You're so fucked up yourself from who knows what, that you think this is fine! It _isn't_ , it's messed up! Would you treat an animal like this?”  
“Well, that depends on what I consider you,” Sendak's voice lowered, “you fight like a vicious beast in the arena that screams to be tamed, yet you are such a good, obedient pet outside of it.”  
“That's not an answer!”  
“You are like that Earth creature you once told me of; the one that was never fully domesticated – the one you kept as a pet. I believe you said they can be quite feral, but affectionate.”  
“A cat. You think I'm like a _cat_? Coming from _you?”_ Champion gave him an incredulous look, mouth agape. It was true, keeping him was like this 'cat' creature he seemed fond of. “Yes, although I am uncertain how you can see me like such a creature. I am no pet.”

 

“Sendak,” Shiro breathed out, fixing his gaze on the Galra in front of him, “do you really think this is going to play out in your favour?”  
“In time, yes.” Shiro snorted as he raised his prosthetic. “I can't forgive you for what you've done. You've made my life a living nightmare,” he narrowed his eyes, “and just telling me you're fond of me isn't gonna fix that. It's not justified. You're petty and vindictive – you've messed me up to the point I don't even know if what I feel is fabricated or real.”  
“And what is it that you feel, Champion?” He still couldn't understand how nonchalant Sendak was. He seemed to honestly believe that this was fine, and that was _infuriating_. He didn't even keep a guard up around him, so cocky, so...so...he snarled loudly, raising his head to Sendak as he felt his body surge.

 

“Where is your inhibitor?” Sendak eyed the hand warily. It should have been reapplied after the fights.  
“Who knows or cares? Fight me.” The energy cracked around the hand.  
“I am not fighting you, it would be a waste of time.”  
“Fight me _you fuckin' coward_!” He took a step forward, slashing the hand to the side, the palm flattened out. There was a strange aura from him that Sendak had not seen in sparring – a cold serenity that was only offset by the look on his face. It was neutral, calculated. He had not seen this look before. “I will not rise to your goading-” he only just missed the lunge – one primed to pierce his side. Champion whipped around, back-stepping away but eyes locked on him. “Fight me.” He repeated.  
“I am not-”  
“Either you _fuckin' fight_ me or I _attack_ you!” Champion roared as the blade formed and he launched himself at Sendak. This time, he caught Champion within his gauntlet, pressing his body into the ceiling. He watched him writhe and slash wildly at the metal, spitting insults and curses down at him.

 

“Why would I fight you when you will just lose? You are weaker than me.”  
“Fight me as the fuckin' Champion of the arena then!”  
“You would still lose-”  
“I took your eye, cracked your armour, and made you bleed! I can cut you down in my fucking _sleep_!”  
“Says the slave attached to the ceiling. You have already lost-”  
“I didn't realise how weak you were. You're running away from a fight – how un-Galran.” Sendak's brow twitched. He knew what this was, and he didn't like it. Champion glowered down at him, a terrible look on his face, “you're scared of losing – being shown up for how weak you really are. That's it, isn't it? You abuse your station by using fear and coercion because _you_ got too cocky and it cost you-”  
“Enough of your pathetic goading tactics!” Sendak dropped him to the ground, Champion fumbling the landing but rising to his feet nonetheless, the cold look about him returning.

 

“I would ask if you _wanted_ me to beat you senseless, but I then I recall you are a whore for pain regardless!” Sendak snapped, eye narrowed. Shiro could only laugh. It was another truth. He felt conflicted by this whole exchange and it'd be a lie if he didn't know what was coming after it unless he was beaten unconscious. Even then that wouldn't stop Sendak. He just couldn't help pressing his buttons, finally getting to say things that he'd kept to himself for phoebs. Maybe they needed this, it was healthy, he remembered, to air your problems, even if these quintants he'd had to learn the hard way that anger and fists was better then civil conversation. “Why don't we take this outside and see where it fucking takes us, huh? I want to face you properly.”  
“That is one thing we can agree on.” Sendak grabbed him in the gauntlet again and forced him outside.

 

As soon as Sendak dropped him to the ground, Champion ran _away_ from him. Sendak blinked in disbelief that quickly manifested to anger. “You want to fight but then run? _Pathetic!_ ” He launched the gauntlet after him, only to curse when Champion dove to the ground, using his activated prosthetic to slow him. He flipped round and created the blade, running straight back at him. “You fucking _dreck_!” Champion roared, eyes catching the light as he leapt up and swept the arm across his chest. Sendak was able to back-step enough that it left a scorch line across his armour, the sparks dancing in front of the smirk on Champion's face.

 

As Champion landed, he quickly turned on his heel back around, swiping the prosthetic to his side as he came again. Each slash of the arm pushing him back. As the gauntlet retracted, he brought it round to parry the blow, sparks flying from the surface as the blade and metal met. “What do you even hope to achieve with this?” Sendak snarled out. Champion's smirk merely grew wider. “I want you to see what you've made me. See I'm not weak, not something to be toyed with for your amusement!” Sendak shoved him away, growling at the small chuckle that escaped his lips.

 

It became clear quickly to Sendak that Champion was trying to injure him. The reservations or prompting he used to require during sparring was gone, and all the time in the arena was showing. He had grown in strength considerably, and he'd only had his bones strengthened. He couldn't help but let out a purr as he parried the blow again. Champion was truly unrelenting in his assault, even if he was panting. The anger from dobosh's ago found itself replaced by a strange sense of pride and he couldn't help his lips tug upwards into a smirk.  
“What?”  
“I am proud of you.”  
“Save your lies!” Champion's nostrils flared as he pressed the quintessence blade against the metal. “I am not lying to you,” Sendak threw him off and launched forward. Champion ducked down to the ground, and Sendak felt a sharp kick to the back of his leg. He steadied himself with the gauntlet, loosening a snarl of pain as he flexed it. “That was cheap.” He didn't get a reply as Champion leapt up again. This time, Sendak was prepared. He brought the gauntlet up and heard his body slam against it. “Are you done venting your frustrations? I can tell the fight is exciting you.” Champion merely snarled in response and Sendak could only groan in exasperation as the blade struck near the connection point. “Off,” with an easy flick, he sent Champion rolling over the floor, watching him slide to a stop at the top of the stairs.

 

Champion climbed back up onto his feet again, his panting heavier and skin thinly veiled in sweat, as he wiped the blood from the side of his mouth. “We're not done.”  
“You will tire first like always, and I do not wish to harm you-”  
“How can I trust anything you say to me? Why can't you get, that if you've just told me you've been breaking me for phoebs to get me to renounce every-fucking-thing I cared about, my willingness to believe anything you tell me now is gonna be non-existent!”  
“When have I actively lied to you? I have been _punished_ because of your behaviour and not taken it out on you at every opportunity, I have granted you weakness, and I have killed or injured those that have hurt you-”  
“ _Stop trying to justify your actions! Stop trying to guilt me into accepting it!_ ”  
“Well what do you want from me?” He met Champion in the middle of the hallway, both their bodies shaking with anger. Champion grabbed the front of his armour in his organic hand, his steely gaze becoming sharper as their foreheads touched. “A fuckin' apology and you swearing you'd never do it again would be a start. Maybe some fucking _respect_ wouldn't hurt either!”  
“You. Are. A. Slave.”  
“And if you were so fond of me as you claim, you'd get an apology would be a fucking start! Why's this so hard for you to grasp?”  
“Maybe if you did not call me weak, I may have been more willing to reconsider!” Sendak pressed his forehead harder against Champion's.

 

“Was it the loss of your kit that made you like this?” Sendak jerked back at how quietly that came out as Shiro stared up at him. “Was it losing something you cared about, then losing almost everything, that made you become such a piece of shit?”  
“Don't you _dare_ -”  
“You only ever shorten your words when you're really pissed. I hit a sore spot, didn't I?” Shiro advanced, “it hurts, doesn't it? When someone knows something you didn't want them to.” He cocked his head to the side, letting his lips fall as he let his own cruelness out; Sendak deserved this. “A bit like how you've had access to everything in here,” he tapped his head, “now you know how I feel.”  
“What do you hope to gain from this?” Shiro grunted as he caught the gauntlet and it shoved him backwards, even as he dug his heels in. He probably needed his muscles improved upon before he tried this again. If he ever did. “An understanding. See, even if I lose this fight, I _know_ I've gotten under your skin. Just like you got under mine to the point that I love to hate you, and hate to love you.”  
“You wish you could get under my skin-”  
“See, I have, that's the thing. To be fond of me, I'd have to. I know I haven't got under Haxus's, unless I insult you, then he's likely to act.” This was the first time Shiro had him on the back-foot, and he couldn't help but internally smile at that. He had the control here, and he was going to enjoy every tick of it.

 

“You gonna stand there or fight me?”  
“If I admitted you got under my skin, as you put it,” Sendak lowered his gauntlet to look at him, “what would that mean to you?” Shiro shrugged his shoulders. “Again, could be lies.”  
“What will it take for you to believe me?”  
Shiro reformed the blade and lunged forwards screaming. Sendak snarled as he brought his organic arm forward to strike. Shiro feinted and leapt up, ramming the blade inside the connector on his shoulder. Sendak grabbed him with his organic arm around the throat and threw him as the gauntlet, that he had been trying to retract, struck the ground with a metallic thud that echoed around the huge room. Shiro landed badly on his left hand, but the pain was worth it to see his face as he looked between the prosthetic and Shiro, the connector on his shoulder sparking.

 

“I'm your slave, remember? Everything you've asked me to do, I've learned from. I may not know enough about your past, but if you think I haven't worked out how to take you down, you're wrong.” He was shaking as he stood, feeling some sense of pride within himself that didn't come from being told he was a good boy. Sendak could do what he wanted now, because they both knew that Shiro could disarm him. _That would have to make him respect us_. He didn't reactivate the blade as he moved, but left his hand primed as he stalked forward with purpose, Sendak staring at him in disbelief as Shiro stopped a few paces in front of him.

 

“Are we finishing this?”  
“The fight's over.” Sendak's voice was quiet as he leaned down, tilting the gauntlet.  
“No it isn't.” Champion growled as he ghosted the prosthetic against his throat. He could feel the heat, hear the restraint in his voice. He studied him through the cybernetic eye carefully. “Do you intend to kill me?”  
“I would love to, but I'm not stupid enough to do it. You're _lucky_.” Sendak couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that. “So then what do you intend to do?”  
“This.” It was quick and considerably painful as Champion dragged the metal fingers forcibly down his side. The smell of burnt fabric, fur, and flesh invading his nose. Sendak bit his lip and hissed through his teeth as he watched the impassive face of his slave. His pupils occasionally flicking up to watch his face until he let his hand fall to the side.

 

Sendak watched as he leaned down and hoisted up the gauntlet. “What are you doing with that?”  
“Gonna take it back in, why?”  
“Why on Diabazaal would you do that?” He frowned as Champion moved towards the door slowly with it, before he tilted his head back. “I love to hate you, and hate to love you. That's how I feel.” He moved back towards him after carefully placing it down, offering out the prosthetic hand, “and at the end of the quintant, so much as you pissed me off,” he wrinkled his nose as he looked away, “I still swore myself to you, didn't I? You still gave me a purpose, there's still the soft memories, the rare moments you confided in me...not leaving me in the labs and even earlier when you checked over my scars. This is the first time I've been able to actually defend myself, and now I _hope_ you understand how much it hurt me learning that.”

 

“How do you feel now having enacted your revenge?” Sendak warily glanced at the metal hand. Champion merely grunted in response, pushing it forward. Sendak took it reluctantly, feeling the sting of the burn as he moved. “You're not forgiven if that's what you're asking. Not yet.” He looked up at Sendak with another expression devoid of emotion. “Are you happy with what you created? Can you still be fond of this?” He motioned to himself, and Sendak was uncertain how to answer.

 

He was both proud, livid, and concerned at the creature that carried his gauntlet back in with all the care one would give to a newborn kit. This was another instance where he should punish Champion. “I will not punish you for this.”  
“Oh? Why's that?”  
“I deserved it.” Sendak watched him turn to look him up and down before moving away. “That I do believe.”  
“I know,” he watched Champion exit the room and carefully settled on the sofa, running his hand through his crest. Haxus would be looking for blood, and for once he didn't want his lieutenant to act on that. Gods, he _was_ fond of him.

 

-

 

The message Ulaz received was an odd one from Sendak: sedatives, burn gel, an inhibitor, and technical tools required for prosthetic fixing. _What has he done now?_ He paused as he reached the top of the stairs, noting specks of blood, dents and burn marks. _They fought? What?_ He hurried to the door and struck his fist against it, the panic building as to what state Shiro would be in. The door slid open, but he did not find Sendak staring back at him, but rather Shiro staring _up_ at him. Unscathed. His eyes widened as he noticed some bruises and cuts, and then he let his eyes drift to the very intact prosthetic. “You'll be happy to know it's not me who needs your assistance, it's him.” Shiro lazily pointed into the room, and as Ulaz entered, he let out a sharp hiss.

 

“What happened?”  
“Champion happened,” Sendak glanced up at him, knocking back a glass of alcohol by the looks of it. “You know what I mean! How did this happen? Why is there blood and dents outside?”  
“Sendak told me why he broke me,” Shiro sidled up beside him, crossing his arms over his chest, “and I was angry.” Ulaz noticed Sendak's ears droop a little.  
“I suspect that you agree I deserve this?”  
“Honestly? I have warned you in the past, but I was not expecting you to ever tell him.”

 

“He also told me he was fond of me, but I don't believe that for a tick.” Ulaz grabbed Shiro's shoulder as he went to move round, giving it a firm squeeze. Shiro grunted as he raised his arm. “You should probably put the inhibitor on before I do something I regret.” Ulaz nodded and pointed to the sofa as he set the bag down and took it out. He attached it to the offered prosthetic and clamped it closed. “Even I would admit that the Commander is fond of you.” Ulaz muttered quietly. Shiro stared at him before shrugging as he looked over at Sendak. “What makes you say that?”  
“Haxus and I have noted the change in his behaviour, and he has been kinder to you then previous slaves.” Ulaz settled beside Sendak, tilting his organic arm up to get a better view of the burn marks. “Your colleagues on High Command and the Emperor have seen it too, I believe?”  
“Yes,” Sendak hissed as he applied the gel, ears flicking in annoyance. “I hate this stuff,” he grunted. “You and Champion both hate gels,” he glanced again at Shiro, who was still staring at Sendak in silent fury.

 

“How do I know you're not lying either? You knew what he was doing and didn't stop it.”  
“Shiro, you know I have sought to look after you to the best of my ability-”  
“If he had told you, not only would he have been punished for going behind my back, but if these events happened earlier, I am certain the Emperor would have killed you irregardless of anything.” Sendak supplied as he grunted again from the gel.  
“It's just hard,” Shiro leaned forward, gaze unyielding, “when you've been lied to for so long by someone so emotionally conflicting.”

 

“If you do not mind me asking, how did this even come up?” Ulaz looked to Sendak, who sighed. “Haggar brought it up in the meeting – unsubtly complaining about the restrictions. Then when she dug into his head about the murdered dreck, she brought up that Hepta kissed him on that night out I allowed. Sniv's also resurfaced from his hole...and then Gnov lectured me outside into being honest with him. I was, and he went feral.” Sendak sounded subdued. Ulaz had never seen or heard him like this. He had been genuine, and Shiro had- He stared again at the burn marks, then checked Sendak's arm. There was no defensive wounds. He narrowed his eyes. “Can you bring me the prosthetic?”  
“Sure.” Shiro pushed himself up and wandered from the room, casting his eyes over the two as he left.

 

“The sedatives are for him, aren't they?”  
“Yes. He has been passive since it happened, but I thought he would understand. Why did he not understand?”  
“Well if someone told me why they abused me, and you being you, well...I would lose my temper,” Ulaz whispered as he pressed his fingers against Sendak's ribs, “he is also fond of you himself – he did call you emotionally conflicting.”  
“Yes, he said he hates to love me and loves to hate me.”  
“The latter I would have expected more around the beginning, not now.”  
“I do not understand him. Ah, that stung.”  
“Well it is likely bruised...did you not use your gauntlet?”  
“Yes, but not to full capacity. I was truthful, and told him what I had endured and done for him without his knowledge. He has not forgiven me, or will not for a while. I...thought this would please him. I do not even know _why_ I have this fondness! It is strange, unnatural. It is akin to you letting him do _that_.” His ears pricked and Ulaz realised he likely could hear Shiro coming back. “You cannot help your feelings, Commander, much like I could not help mine. He is my patient – I should never have engaged.”  
“Yet here we both are,” Sendak winced again, “do you think this is an ability humans possess?” Ulaz couldn't help but laugh. “No. From what I have read, they do not have an ability to naturally charm, however _we_ have the problem of scents.”  
“Just do not speak to me of that right now.” Ulaz gave his shoulder two curt pats, earning a pained snort of laughter from Sendak.

 

Eventually Shiro returned, setting the hunk of metal down on the floor. “What did you want to look at?”  
“Damage. I need you to lay down and let it work – no touching it.” Ulaz moved to let Sendak settle. He'd seen him in pain before – after times with the Emperor – but he always just carried on, told him not to concern himself with it. Shiro's eyes flicked to his chest armour on the floor, tracing the damage with his pupils slowly, then leaned over to watch Ulaz take stock of all the marks he'd managed to make on the metal. He motioned for Shiro to pass him his bag, and without thought he did. The room was quiet as Ulaz pulled out a device not dissimilar to his hand scanner. Shiro watched as he frowned at it, then glanced at the Commander, then whatever was on the screen. “You never primed it.”  
“No. I said I did not use it to its full capacity.” Sendak muttered.

 

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”  
“If I did, you would have burn marks from the claws,” Sendak inclined his head towards him, “I told you I did not wish to fight you.”  
“ _Liar_! You spent plenty of that fight telling me it was a waste of time and I'd lose!” He spat as he rose, prosthetic fist balled tight, since the left was too painful. Sendak didn't flinch at his tone, but remained watching him as he spoke. “You know of battle tactics, Champion. Much like your goading got to me, I was _trying_ to offset you because I wanted to _explain_. Why do you think I let you do this?” He motioned to the burns, “why would someone of a warrior race simply roll over and allow an injury? It is nonsensical.”  
“Resignation that I defeated you?”  
“No. I allowed you to mark me as a reminder.”  
“A reminder of _what_?” Shiro stalked past Ulaz and grabbed Sendak's ear. He hissed out, and Shiro felt his organic arm slip around his back and grab his shoulder. He used his weight to push him down until their faces were inches apart. “A reminder and testament to your strength and anger. I deserved this. It was only fair I allow you to mark me, like I marked you. If I was not fond of you,” he gave Shiro's lips a small lick, “then I would have fought back properly, Takashi Shirogane.” Sendak let go of his shoulder, and he eased his fingers from his ear carefully.

 

Shiro's body felt like someone had attached an anchor to his body and tossed him in the ocean. “You don't ever use my name.”  
“Only if I am being serious and want you to listen. Perhaps I should have used it earlier?”  
“No.” Shiro's voice cracked without his permission, “no, no. _Nopeno, no!_ ” He pushed his hands into his hair, clawing at his scalp, strands catching and tearing out as they caught in the metal joints, “you don't get to do this! _You don't get to play with my head like this!_ Don't use that name – don't fuck this – fuck me up. _Fuck!_ ” The touch against his wrist burned. Shiro struck out with a yell, striking nothing.

 

Ulaz sighed heavily as he shifted from the gauntlet and fished into his bag, taking out a needle. It was _awkward_ to sit through all of this, but Shiro was losing control and at this point, sedating him was the better idea before he needed to physically restrain him. He rose and stepped towards him, crouching down to his eye level. “Shiro, do you need to rest?” Ulaz watched him turn slowly, looking from his face to the needle. “What're you going to do with that?”  
“It will help you rest, you won't be so stressed out.”  
“What is it?”  
“A sedative, Shiro. You just seem very upset, and I think some time to rest will help you.”  
“Ulaz, I did something terrible,” Ulaz glanced at Sendak, who cast him a look of trepidation back, as Shiro's mood crashed and he started to shake, “I hurt the Commander. The Emperor's gonna find out, he's gonna kill me, Ulaz. The witch'll turn my body into this fucking messed up thing. I fucked up, I fucked up so badly. Oh _gods,_ just kill me already, I can't do this, I can't do this! I hurt him, Ulaz, I hurt him and I'm _sorry_. I didn't mean to get so angry, I fucked up, I fucked up.” He was quick. Shiro snatched the needle and stabbed it into his forearm. Ulaz tried to grab it back, but as he injected himself, Ulaz knew ripping it out would cause him more pain then was necessary. He watched Shiro rip it free, hissing as he crushed it and flopped forwards into his lap, erratic breathing easing slowly over a few dobosh's that felt like vargas until he was under.

 

“He is safer with you tonight.”  
“I agree. Are you summoning Haxus over for the evening?”  
“No. I have things to attend to.”  
“I see,” Ulaz carefully eased him into his arms and placed him down on the opposite sofa. “I was not aware of what had happened with Hepta,” Ulaz sighed as he watched Sendak sit up, “I was under the impression that they were merely friendly.”  
“I just cannot _believe_ him.”  
“Commander, I have been working with the boy for a few phoebs now. He is naïve, a bit gullible, and curious – too much for his own good – but predatory he is not. Do not beat him senseless.”  
“I cannot simply give him a verbal reprimand and a clip around the ear, either. Sniv is easier to deal with, providing I can find him.” Sendak let Ulaz move his arm about to inspect the damage.

 

“He really has messed this up.”  
“Are you able to fix it?” Sendak stared over at Champion, the hair stuck against his forehead. He wanted to place him somewhere more comfortable after the outburst. They were always hard to watch; in part the noise he made, but the scent he produced placed him on edge. It must be a deep primal feeling, a subconscious one, because normally Sendak wouldn't react that way.  
“You are not paying attention, are you?”  
“Did you say something?”  
“Yes,” Ulaz didn't stifle the chuckle at his expense, “I said I can only do some touch-up work, but you are going to need to see her.”  
“I was afraid of that.”  
“I can hear the questions now.”  
“As can I,” Sendak watched Champion from the corner of his eye, “he has grown strong.”  
“ _Frightening strong_ is the phrase I would use, personally. Considering his stature.”  
“You really are quite the pacifist. Why? Considering what you used to do.” Ulaz tensed for a tick before refocusing his attention. “It is _because_ of that. I have been involved with many experiments over my career, and considering most of the subjects, there was enough violence I had to review. After a while, it got to me.” He tilted his head to Sendak, “just be careful around Haggar.”  
“I know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am gonna address the truth thing. I imagine the Galra are pretty truthful as a species, and you have honour and all that blah blah blah. Not every Galra is truthful, and lying by omission is a thing, but usually thats to other citizens. Lying to slaves, at least for this fic, wouldn't be frowned upon because of their status. So the fact Sendak's gone out of his way to be truthful with Shiro falls back to that shower sex scene forever ago and kinda a few times after that, since Sendak was like if you do these things I will return it. So, he is. Is he still an asshat? Yes, yes Sendak is. The 'problem' for dear Shiro is that uh, that's not cool. Is it a cultural thing? Yes and no. We all know who's probably had a hand in that. It's sadly why Ulaz was truthful, but no one really could gauge Shiro's reaction. 
> 
> Shiro's having his internal fight of 'this is wrong but sendak means a lot to me'. For me it's been nice to finally show how the stockholm shit has really hit, how the conditioning has really compromised him. It's sad, it really is. It hurt to have Ulaz and Sendak tear that win away from him, but I'm setting up for some stuff for part 2 now with how he acts and what his desires are moving forward. It will of course be relevant for this part, but I can't say much more. 
> 
> Next chapter there is going to be non-con and a suicide attempt. The non-con won't be as descriptive as before, and I've rewritten parts of that chapter a good few times. I looked for some feedback on the attempt passage for a sensitivity check, but I just need to add to it a little. I will say now it is a HEAVY chapter that'll be out next Monday/Tuesday.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed, and can't wait to hear from you! Until next week, my lovelies!


	48. Causation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there! Guess who's back (and in pain because legs and a blister and being exhausted)? This bitch, that's who!
> 
> I got back yesterday but was unpacking and sorting a lot of muddy clothes. Download was good - really good - I got right up close to the stage for Starset (the band who sings Monster, and what this fic is inspired by if you look at the title ahah). They even sung it, and I was singing along to every single one of their songs. Gotta say, died completely. Got to see Opeth, Lamb of God, Amon Amarth, Slayer's last UK performance...Skindred who are hilarious, Slipknot (COREY MADE US BEND THE FUCKING KNEE) and just...wow. It rained a lot, and we found wooden penis-shaped bottle openers which my ex gf had to buy and proceeded to poke me in the face with for a while. We did find a place that sold mugs of tea, which was great when we watched Slayer (also listened to Tool which is good stoner music imo). Three Days Grace was there and I had to miss Jinger sadly because strobe lights :/ Halestorm? YES. They were good. 
> 
> Anyway enough about the festival and TIME FOR FIC. So I added a tad more and had a sensitivity read. BE WARNED: NON-CON AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT THIS CHAPTER. I have done my best and *hope* it's alright with how its handled. Admittedly handling anything like this is always tricky. Heavy angst otherwise, and we get some backstory for Hepta, Ladnok and Kaleska. 
> 
> Big thank you for all the comments and kudos again, folk, I cannot stress how much I love all of you who keep at this bullshit fic.

Her body still ached after the lashing, but she had taken out her frustrations when she punished Hepta. Such brutish punishments were unnecessary when she could bring out the worst fears and memories of those that went against her. The rarity of punishments she gave was like that of a trans-reality comet; almost unheard of. Unlike that cosmic rarity, her rate was so low because of her established authority and the fear she heralded. Fear that she used to her advantage. Hepta had left more shaken then he had arrived, she almost wondered if he was going to cry. He knew better.

 

If she could, she would do the same to Sendak, who sat awaiting her.  
“What happened?” She gave the arm a derisive look.  
“I underestimated the Champion's ferocity in battle. It appears when he is angered, he becomes more focused – more centred upon his target.” Sendak held her gaze as she stalked forward. His body was tense, his tone not as sharp as usual. “He was able to detect a weakness in the arm. I would like this fixed, if possible.”  
“It is doable.” She sniffed as she raised the remnant of his arm, squinting at the internal damage to the connector. “This has been partially fixed.”  
“Yes. Ulaz was able to make basic repairs.”  
“Where is the subject?”  
“With him.”  
“The Emperor has been notified?”  
“This information would serve him little purpose.”  
“You do not think he would be concerned the subject has damaged you?” Haggar caught his gaze.

 

“He has more important issues to deal with. The most he needs to know is that Champion has been conditioned well enough that he will even try to strike me down, which I will tell him shortly.” Sendak's nostrils flared as he spoke, teeth catching the light. Haggar merely nodded as she stood up straighter. “Follow, I need precision equipment to fix this.” Her cloak fluttered up behind her as she moved with purpose. She may not be able to mess with his head, but sometimes subjects just _moved_ too much; small nicks and cuts were _bound_ to happen.

 

-

 

“Sorry, Mistress,” Kaleska winced herself as she pulled away. She assured Ladnok that her wounds could wait since Zarkon had done more damage to her. Kaleska wrung out the cloth in the bowl beside her before carefully easing the warm cloth back over the slashes across her back, the short fur would need a brush later on, but it depended on whether Ladnok would allow her to do it. She let her eyes trail across the darker line of fur that trailed down her back, small stripes branching off along the length. “Just like ya ma.” Kaleska chuckled as she leaned Ladnok forward.  
“Hm? What do you mean?”  
“Markin's. Just like ya ma's.”  
“Don't forget Hepta, his are more pronounced then mine.”  
“Ya, but ya look a lot like her, ya know.”  
“She'd be so angry with me right now. 'Daughter! How could ya be so bovas-headed! Don't getchaself in trouble with Zarkon!' Then she'd slam the hilt of the axe down. When I was younger, that scared me.”  
“Ya, she told me.”  
“At least you don't do it and never scared Hepta with it.” Kaleska rumbled in agreement. She'd never seen Ladnok grow up, but even when she returned to the clan home, when Malvag was in a mood, she would smack the thing into the floor to punctuate her points. She'd had it herself, although she rarely feared the act.

 

It was one of the things the two disagreed on in the later quintants when they'd got to know each other more. Eventually with time, Malvag mellowed out until she unexpectedly fell with Hepta. She thought she was past the point where she could, so there was a lot of curiosity from the healers and the witch briefly. A younger Ladnok and Trugg had been there, but their father had never got to meet him. To this quintant, they never knew what had happened to the crew of the ship, and it had been that which had driven Malvag to her death. In her grief, she formally resigned from High Command, left Ladnok in charge of the clan home, and tasked her with raising her son until she returned with their father. Her lieutenant and the crew left Central never to be seen again after that. That was when she was bestowed the axe, that even after the ship was reported as missing all those deca-phoebs ago and the investigation closed, Ladnok allowed her to keep it.

 

“I'm so frustrated with him. I thought I taught him better.”  
“Mistress, we're both at fault if tha's the case.”  
“You aren't at fault as much as I,” Ladnok hissed, body tensing, as she felt the water trickle into the wounds. “Sorry again, ain't done this since the las' time.”  
“It's fine, Kaleska. I just...she left us in a mess to find dad, and almost made a joke of our clan. I just...I can't forgive her for that.”  
“She loved ya fatha a lot, would cross the stars for 'im. Lucky guy if ya ask me. She was gettin' on though, all tha' quintessence started drivin' 'er a bit loopy. Galra, from what I see, seem ta work in extremes, and ya ma was tha' at times.”  
“Just a bit,” Ladnok's empty laugh echoed around the bathroom, “he'd be so different if she'd stayed.”  
“More o' a soldier, I suspect, but couldn't say he'd be happier.”  
“You think?”  
“Ya. Even when I used to train 'im, he wasn't so interested – more about ya culture an' 'istory. He can fight, yeah, jus' he's not stand-out. If he was a gladiator, he'd probably not see it through trainin'.”  
“Don't let him catch you saying that, even if it's a fair assessment.”  
“Love 'im regardless. Seein' the difference in 'im and his comrades compared to ya and ya ma is a real curiosity. Galra are odd, gotta admit, with ya stupid life spans. Got ya old bastards, ya babes, and all the ones in-between. Younga ones ain't so bloodthirsty, ya ain't either.” She heard the cloth re-enter the water and looked down at the tiles.

 

“It's something Trugg keeps 'joking' about. It's starting to frustrate me.”  
“Again? Thought she grew outta that.”  
“Apparently not,” Ladnok sniffed, “I haven't asked her to come over tonight. It's a bit too late now anyway.”  
“Ya don't want 'er sayin' shit ta Hepta, do ya?”  
“No. We should hurry, I don't want him seeing either of us like this.”  
“He's gonna be able ta tell, Mistress,” Kaleska started to apply the antiseptic gel, smoothing it as carefully as she could into her back. Ladnok grunted out in pain. “You're like a star that keeps us safe in your orbit.”  
“Well, I ain't certain abou' that, but I appreciate ya kindness.”  
“If you,” Ladnok tensed under her touch, “ever wanted to be free, say the word and I will release you.” Kaleska stopped rubbing and sighed. “Even if I wanted ta be free, ain't got nothin' left 'cept ya an' Hepta. How 'bout ya free me when ya both're in a more stable place; don't need ma meddlin' or motherin',” she laughed, but they both knew it wasn't something that could happen so easily.

 

After Ladnok was treated, she made quick work cleaning and patching Kaleska up. She wasn't harmed as much, but had still taken a few nasty hits. A new scar ran across her broad chest, but like all the others it would fade into the tapestry of wounds that littered her body; each and every one having a story she could recount from the top of her head. Between them they cleaned up the bathroom, again not wanting to stress Hepta any more then they were anticipating. Whether he knew that Sendak wanted to see him, Ladnok didn't know. It was likely that the summons had been issued – she'd not checked her communicator to see if Gnov had let her know yet.

 

-

 

Hepta stumbled into the atrium to find his sister and Kaleska there waiting. He may have taken a detour of several vargas – he needed to think, needed to build up the courage to come home. He was a disappointment; made such a rookie mistake. He should never drink, but he'd had a few before he got back. That was also a mistake. It just made the memory and feelings attached to it all the more intense. He'd forgot how much pressure he was exerting and either dropped or crushed a few glasses while he was out. Eventually they charged him for damages.

 

“I can promise ya,” Hepta raised a hand as he pulled himself up, “I'm nottas drunk as I _could_ be.”  
“Young masta-”  
“What did she do, Hepta?”  
“Awww, Laddy, why ya gotta go askin' _that_?” Hepta whined as he stumbled forwards and flopped over the arms of one of the sofas, rubbing his head against the fabric as he looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Lets make it a game, kay? You guess, an' I lay here an' not think of traumula. Go!” Ladnok and Kaleska just stared at him, before his sister went to sit on his stomach. He wiggled around, grunting at her as she hoisted his legs up. “Sit up, c'mon.” She watched him intently as his gaze rolled from the ceiling back to her. Distantly he heard heavy footsteps move away.

 

“Laddy it's 'kay.”  
“What did she make you see, Hepta?” Ladnok looked like she was in pain, it was probably him being difficult.  
“Felt it 'gain. Heat, heard the noises an' taste acrid smog. Pain in 'em,” he pathetically shook his arms, “so much blood, Laddy, all twisty bone. Gotta see it 'gain an' gain.”  
“Hepta,” she let her face fall into her hands, “why won't you get this purged?”  
“Cause 'leska was never 'llowed! Ain't fair tha' we can but she an' Shiro an' t'others go through worse?!” He managed to actually sit up, but fell into her shoulder. Ladnok pulled him into her side. “It's just the way things are, wrong as it is,” she muttered.  
“Why aren't ya tryin' change it? Ya can do it, Laddy. Ya're big 'mander, yeah?”  
“I can't get support for it, you _know_ that.”  
“Well fuck 'em an' star' yer own empire, with...with...sporks.”  
“Hepta that makes no sense at all.”  
“Use ya imaginogtion then?” He let his head roll against her, trying to poke her cheek.

 

“You won't get better if you don't get it purged.”  
“Ain't doin' it, said why.”  
“They may force it, you realise? Do you want to end up being forced to the arena _at worst_ and staying an Officer at best? You won't ever be able to progress, and if you want to help me with Kaleska, we need to work _together_. I need you to stay focused!”  
“I'll get betterer! Just lemme do it my waaay, kay? Haha, it rhymes. Laddy, I made a rhyme!” Hepta wiggled next to her and Ladnok couldn't help but sigh. He always tried to be so positive and unserious but it was draining and frustrating. He didn't fully understand the politics of High Command sober, and drunk, there was no hope.

 

“Have you seen,” she paused as she chewed her lip, “Sendak yet?”  
“Nooo, but I gotta in...” he fumbled with the communicator, dropping it to the floor accidentally before snatching it back up, “I gotta see him in...words.” He let her take it from his hands and heard a sharp sniff. “Hepta, you have just over a varga and you're fucking drunk! _Why would you do that?”  
_“ _Cause Haggar fucked with ma head, okay?_ ” Hepta cried as he tried to draw himself in. “I'm _scared '_ cause she's gone messed it up! Then I gotta see him and I dunno, Laddy, I dunno what he's gonna do an' I... _well ya know I like him!_ I shouldnoodent but I _do_ an' he's like a 'mander like ya an' I gone disappointin' 'im an' Shiro an', an'...gonna be _sick_ ,” he rolled off the sofa as he stumbled away.

 

She groaned as she caught up to him and carried him to the bathroom. This was pathetic. She'd have to talk to him in the morning providing Sendak didn't stick him in the hospital or something. Ladnok kept him steady over the bowl, rubbing her aching eyes as he emptied the liquid contents of his stomach. He was a terrible binge drinker, but annoyingly at that age where _everyone_ was fucking doing it. She never had been, but then times and circumstances were different. “Tomorrow we're sitting down with Herreh, got it?”  
“Kay-” Ladnok patted his head with a sigh. He was her trusted General when they were out in space, but a good family friend. He'd been on paternity leave, but had returned to Central earlier. They were meeting up either way, but bringing Hepta along wouldn't be an issue. Herreh had a way of getting through to Hepta when she couldn't, and right now he needed an outside perspective.

 

“Done?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Get a shower, I'll help Kaleska sort your shit out.”  
“Why're ya helpin'?”  
“Cause I don't want you insulting him further and giving him grounds to punish you again. You owe me though.” She offered a tiny grin and he nodded slowly, “you wanna have the place to yourself, righ'? Ya and Trugg gonna-”  
“Glad this agreement's been made,” she clapped her hands together, “shower, c'mon. I'll get Kaleska-”  
“Fuck _off_!” His ears flattened as he picked himself up slowly, “I don't want her to see me naked-”

 

“Young masta, ain't anythin' I haven't seen before! Gods, I remember when ya just a wee babe, wanderin' round-”  
“Oh my _gods!_ I'm gonna! Get out, _out_!” Hepta yelled as he pushed Ladnok through the door, the two of them just laughing at him. Gods, they were terribly mean to him when he was drunk. “Thank 'ou,” he muttered as he closed the door and moved towards the shower, stripping his armour off and dumping it in the corner. The Empire could fucking do one for all he cared right now. Haggar was a bitch and it was way excessive. Sendak? Why he wanted to see him so late he had no idea; maybe it was getting back at him that time they woke him up late? But all these stupid bovas-shit punishment rules were just bollocks, all the rules of the Empire were bollocks. Simple apology should do the job, maybe a dock in pay or some other mild duties. He'd get rid of slaves though, that was just so old-Empire and dumb. Like, it wasn't _right_. The Blade of Marmite knew what was up. Hepta wondered for a brief tick how you would apply for a job trying to take down the establishment. Gods, it was good no one could actually read his thoughts as thousands of icy droplets thundered against his fur.

 

-

 

Hepta wasn't sure if he'd caught Shiro's hallucinations, because this didn't seem real. He knew it was impossible to catch a hallucination, but this was _weird_. He was late by two dobosh's, tipsy as fuck, but Sendak seemed in a pleasant enough mood that made Hepta feel a little better. He'd taken him to one of the fancy bars; ones he'd need to save for a few phoebs' to go out to if he wanted a good night. The small booth was nestled away from the main floor and there was no company around them at all. The whole thing was cosy, if not questionably intimate. Maybe Sendak just wanted to talk? It wasn't like they hadn't been having some discussion about random stuff. He wasn't too sure as he absently sipped the second drink Sendak had brought him that evening. He had to fight his eyes that kept drifting over the armour that was always so well-kept, how the body suit just accented- _no, no, nope. Do not, do not think about that! Bad Hepta, bad!_

 

“Was Haggar's punishment rough? You seem distracted.”  
“Y-yeah, Commander, sir. I, uh, really had it bad from the High Priestess.”  
“What did she make you see?” Sendak rested his head in his hand, ears pointed forwards as he watched him intently. Hepta swallowed as he rotated the glass on the table. “It was how I lost these,” he raised his arms, “I know I shouldn't have done that with Shiro.” He dropped his head to the table, “sir, I'm so sorry. I just...I don't know why I did, why I let him. I just...just-”  
“Officer Hepta, you can tell me if you are enamoured by him.”  
“S-Seriously?”  
“Well there must be something there,” Sendak toyed with his glass in the metal fingers, Hepta's pupils lazily watching it rotate, the sound of the glass rolling on the table the only thing he could hear.

 

“Well?”  
“Ah, I, uh. I mean of course, Commander. He's just a friend, sir. It was just the closeness of the space, the alcohol. He is a bit allurin', and he's always looked so soft, and I was just curious and I'm sorry, I know he's yours-”  
“I see. I am just trying to piece this together, that is all.”  
“W-What did Shiro say, sir?”  
“You are a friend. That was it.” Hepta brought the drink to his lips. He was starting to feel nauseous all of a sudden and low; real low. “Y-Yeah, we're just friends.”  
“You sound uncertain.”  
“No, no I'm just feelin' off a bit, sir.” His eyes felt heavy. He wasn't sure if he was low because Shiro felt like a genuine friend, and sometimes Hepta felt his chest feel tight and he wanted to just squish him in a giant hug and nuzzle him to pieces. He was just interesting and fun company and was strong to boot, which he couldn't deny _was_ attractive. But if it wasn't reciprocated, that was fine but sucked. He was used to that, like he was weird, and maybe was a bit kittish at times. Maybe it was that? Maybe that's why he couldn't get a break. Gods, he needed to get a grip. Maybe he needed to move off of Central for a while, get back to a normal posting. He'd meet new people then, maybe he could get over his stupid crushes.

 

“Speak, what plagues your thoughts?”  
“I jus'...I dunno. A lot? I feel weak and like I can't do anythin' right. You still gotta punish me, sir, and I just...dunno. Central's hard to be on with all these silly thoughts in my head. What's the punishment, anyway, sir? I'll take anythin' to make you happy- prove, I mean, I won't do it 'gain,” Hepta pulled his heavy head up, trying to level it at Sendak, but everything felt wonky. “I wanna do right by my clan but I'm a disappointment to mum and Laddy, sir. I don't wanna be.” Sendak's gaze remained fixed, his ears still tilted towards him even as he leaned back and slung his organic arm over the top of the seat.

 

“Are you sure you would let me do anything?”  
“Yes, sir, anythin' ya wanted.”  
“So, to clarify; you would accept any punishment, no matter the severity or what it was?” Sendak purposefully leaned in close. Hepta made something akin to a whimper as his pupils flicked between him and anywhere else. He was aware of Hepta's feelings in part from noting the looks he occasionally caught, and from Haxus doing some digging a while ago when he started working around Champion – he was aware that humans were a novelty and novelties were usually a point of intrigue. “C-Commander, I'd...I'd,” he visibly swallowed. His scent was all over the place; arousal, fear, confusion and anxiety – it was as he expected.  
“You would do _what_ , Officer Hepta?” He leaned in until he could feel the warm and alcohol-scented breath against his cheek. Hepta's pupils wobbled as they remained fixed on him. “Yeah, sir, I'd accept anythin'.” As he said it, Hepta exposed the side of his neck, “punish me as you see fit, sir.”

 

“Then, since Champion is sedated for the night cycle, you will take what he was due. Since you would _allow_ a slave to dominate you, perhaps I should treat you like one?” He felt Sendak's teeth scrape over the fur. Hepta shivered underneath him and grabbed for Sendak's shoulders to try to make space, but Sendak could pull his drunken body around with ease. “S-Sir, I've never- not _there_.”  
“Well, if you relax,” Sendak's voice sounded like pure velvet and he wanted to purr himself if this wasn't so terrifying, “it will hurt less. Besides,” this time he was pulled into Sendak's lap, a place he'd had too many dreams about for too many deca-phoebs, “is this not what you have wanted? Would this really be a punishment, Officer Hepta?” Hepta was forced to look at him, and if he could blush, he would be as red as Shiro got. With a small sniff, he nodded his head. He knew what his scent said, knew he couldn't lie. Sendak gave him a curt nod and pushed their faces together. “Well, Officer Hepta,” he felt Sendak's metal hand run down his chest, the touch burning even though fabric covered his skin, “strip, and settle yourself at my heel.”

 

His head bolted up, then around, then back to Sendak. He went to speak out, but was caught by the ear. “You said you would accept anything.” Hepta made a small yowl as he bunched himself up as much as he could, his chest constricting through anxiety. “Do realise that if you fight this, I will just do it again. Gods forbid I need to hold your sister to account-”  
“Don't touch Laddy! Just nervous, I haven't...only with girls, okay?” Hepta yowled again as he fumbled with the clasps and sunk beneath the table. He could do this. He couldn't let Laddy pay for his mistakes. Besides, he was drunk and nervous and it was probably Sendak scaring him. Yeah, that seemed more like it. He slowly blinked up at Sendak, who purred at him again as he traced a hand along his jaw. “Get to work.”  
“Yessir.”

 

He never intended to hurt Ladnok, but the threat was all he needed for compliance. Sendak kept his gaze steady as Hepta pushed the body suit down, his armour tucked to the side. Sendak finally saw the damage he took now he sat beneath him. Both arms were completely replaced to the shoulders, the scarring was rather bad over his chest, and as he pushed Hepta's face forward, his back was in worse shape with remnants of burns and shrapnel damage. He was incredibly slender for his age still, which wasn't a complaint more than an observation. He rubbed a claw up his spine, tracing the markings and earning a small whine from the officer who was fiddling with his bodysuit.

 

“Like Champion, you seem to have no qualms being humiliated,” Sendak purred as he tilted Hepta's head up by his ear, rubbing the tip of his cock against his lips. “Unlike Champion, you do not share his stubbornness or eagerness. A shame.” He pushed inside Hepta's mouth, the officer whimpering pathetically again. Sendak offered a single warning growl and bared his teeth. “One more _pathetic_ noise from you, and I will see to Commander Ladnok.” The terrified expression was all he needed as a response. As Hepta quickly picked up the pace, that admittedly needed considerable work, Sendak leaned back in the seat and simply watched. He at least seemed more eager to please at this point, but fear had a way of doing that. He briefly glanced up, content that his 'request' that no one be seated within the area had been adhered to.

 

After everything with Sniv, and now this, he was going to at least have an acceptable evening. He winced at the pain in his side, wondering how long it would take to realistically heal up. At least Sniv had not picked up he was injured, and Hepta was too drunk to comprehend much at this point. He roughly pushed his head down, watching tears form in the corner of Hepta's eyes. “You will need to learn quickly your words and actions have consequences,” his lips curled as Hepta choked and he ground himself in further, “and for all your willingness to agree based on kittish feelings, you have terribly miscalculated.” Sendak pulled him off his cock so he could catch his breath. He enjoyed the terrified look in Hepta's eyes as he panted and coughed. “It is just such a shame you would do yourself such a disservice, but then,” Sendak forced him back down again, “perhaps this is what you have wanted.”

 

-

 

Shiro's mind was clouded – had been since he first came out of the sedatives. He rolled his head to the side at Ulaz, who was sleeping next to him just like the second time he'd woken up from the forced sleep. Shiro didn't want to wake him up, but he did gently stroke his soft fur. “You're too good to me.” He whispered, pressing his lips against Ulaz's forehead. Shiro stilled himself as his brow creased, but Ulaz thankfully remained asleep. Like Shiro, Ulaz seemed to nap a lot more frequently then he used to, or at least he thought so. Sometimes he seemed more irritable as well, but he tried to keep it hidden, which wasn't healthy for him. Soon he wouldn't need to worry as much.

 

He was just adding to Ulaz's stress at this point, and he still felt like he was infringing on his and Thace's relationship. He was sure that he wasn't imagining sharp looks from Thace either. The Galra were petty, so maybe he was just keeping everything well-hidden, like everything that he had been kept _from_. Was he suggesting the Galra were liars? Everyone had, so far as he could remember, always been straightforward with him. Unless he _imagined that_ , which would make more sense and fit this warped narrative that was perhaps not of his own construction.

 

Shiro rolled carefully out of bed and pulled the blankets up around Ulaz. He'd done that earlier, when he woke the second time. He'd peppered kisses along Ulaz's throat and jaw because he'd made Shiro laugh rubbing their noses together. It was cute that Ulaz had been interested in learning Earth customs, and he would miss their exchanges. In an ideal universe, the Galra wouldn't be like this. Since Galran relationships seemed to effectively be polyamorous in nature, which at first he would never of considered, he'd have liked a reality where he could show the others Earth; convince Ulaz he really needed to wear a kimono _._ He wanted to take him to tea ceremonies and see so many things back home. It was something he'd always wanted to show Keith as well, because if that boy needed anything, it was something calming in his life. Much like Ulaz, he would look stunning in a kimono-

 

Shiro blinked himself from his thoughts – hypothetical realities weren't this reality. Maybe in another reality, the Emperor wasn't a dick. In another, the witch was dead. In another, they were all dating together maybe. In this one. Well. He stared down at the bottle of vodka that Ulaz had let him have some of earlier. He had found his way to the kitchen it seemed. It tasted good. Alien alcohol was _the shit_. Shiro absently stared at the label. He knew what it said, but he wasn't reading it. He rolled the base of the bottle in a circle on the table, just listening to the steady noise. No matter what, the pain here would cycle onwards forever. There would be moments of pleasure and times he felt happy, but be it by the witch, the Emperor, or even Sendak's hand, it would return once again to where it started. He had tried hard to keep focusing on the good and positive, but he was beyond done – beyond the level of 'doneness' that that been increasing over phoebs and phoebs. His mind felt quieter now he'd managed to make his choice.

 

He hurt the Commander when he was trying to be honest.  
He injured Zarkon's right-hand.  
His drunken actions got so many people in trouble, and he was responsible for their pain. No one else; him. Ulaz would be less stressed without him here, Sendak would probably be angry but would just find something else to take his frustrations out on. Besides, he was just a slave, he was replaceable. Hell, with what the witch had said about creating another Azea with the samples she had, then considering what they had taken...yeah, he really was replaceable. Sendak would probably get another one, break that just as much.

 

Maybe that one would kill himself too? Maybe Sendak would eventually stop one quintant, realise what he'd done.

 

Shiro shrugged his shoulders as he finished the bottle of vodka. He winced at the sharp burn in his throat – if sandpaper was a liquid then that was what it felt like when he swallowed. None of this mattered any more. They could do what they wanted at this point, use his corpse if it was any good. At least he wouldn't be alive to undergo all the shit. He was certain even Sendak wasn't into necrophilia, and even on the off-chance he was, well; Shiro fished in the cupboard for another bottle and drank it back like it was water, he wouldn't be able to register it.

 

He moved towards the counter and pawed for his medication. Grabbing the bottle, and then having a look for the sedatives Ulaz had left, he settled himself in the corner he was so fond of in the living room. Shiro swallowed back the tablet and took another long swig, clutching the small bottle in his hand. He gave it a gentle shake and made a small laugh, before emptying the bottle two at a time and washing it back with the vodka. At times he felt ready vomit but swallowed back the feeling, and other times the vodka just continued to burn his throat. He stifled back coughing fits into his hand, eyes prickling with hot tears that just rolled down his cheeks until the pills were all gone. He wasn't sure how long this was supposed to take or even what would happen. That was why he had the sedative.

 

Shiro was past the point of caring about himself. He'd royally fucked up, and the Emperor would come for him soon enough to do the job himself. Shiro was going to beat him to it – he'd die by his own hand as he so pleased. Sendak wouldn't care ultimately. At least it meant he could give him the biggest “fuck you” to his project. The only one he felt sorry for was Ulaz, really. He was going to have to find him. He'd been thinking on and off about it when he woke up the second time, when he was more aware and not panicking, but the sleep had cemented this in his mind. He drank from the bottle again, forcing himself to drain the contents.

 

It was probably selfish, but he'd argue it wasn't. He'd been through enough shit that this would solve every single problem he currently had. Ulaz had been trying so hard to get him to a better place, and he really appreciated that he tried all that he did for him. All the soft moments and fun they had – sexual or not – made being out here bearable, almost. Sendak on good quintants too, but again, they would be gone now after what he did. Here he was, cycling around and around.

 

Galra aside, his fuzzy thoughts shifted to Matt and Sam. He was never going to know what became of them. Remembered his promise so long ago – one he couldn't keep, one he stopped thinking about, one he cast aside for this. It was effectively what he did, there was no point lying about it. He tried, really tried to help them. Hopefully Matt could get home and tell Keith. Though Matt being Matt would tell him that he was still alive. His eyes fell out of focus.

 

 _Keith_. His thoughts had always roamed to Keith sporadically since he was captured. Maybe he didn't want to think of him because it hurt – when Matt had pointed out what he'd likely done. He was arrogant to think that he held that much sway over the kid. He'd always been adamant he was helping Keith but now, now he wasn't sure whether he was trying to mould him into something of his liking. Maybe he wanted someone to rely on him, maybe he was hurting Keith and it was better that he left and this happened, as punishment for being a piece of shit. Shiro swallowed down the lump in his throat. He shouldn't be sick on these meds. Maybe he felt sick because he was so desperate to imagine fucking him. Gods, he really was making the right choice in this.

 

If he really cared about Keith, maybe he ought to have thought about him more. Maybe he should have fought to stay alive and look to escape instead of relenting to the Galra. Keith didn't deserve that, he needed someone who'd give him their undivided attention and love, needed someone strong and invulnerable. Keith was strong being through what he had and here was Shiro, late for his graduation. He'd promised him he'd be back for it. He was a liar, a useless piece of shit.

 

Realistically Keith was probably over him by now anyway. It was just him hanging on to something messed up.

 

There was a strange haze and fogginess about the room as he slipped down the wall. Everything was slow, heavy. He felt like he could float away, his muscles blissfully relaxed. He glanced at the sedative on the floor briefly, he should use that now, get it over with. With metal fingers he groped for it, and with more effort than required, stabbed the sedative into his human forearm. He deserved the pain as he injected the contents just like earlier.

 

It was just the sound of his dissipating breathing. He relented trying to keep his eyes focused as he felt himself slide further down the wall.

 

“Shiro! Shiro! Don't!” Distantly he heard Keith's panicked voice. Something dark slipped in front of his vision; some blurred mass of pale and dark colours. He couldn't make any discernable features out as his eyes closed.

 

-

 

All the reading and theory in the universe was useless. Humans worked very differently to Galrans; they were far more expressive but seemed mentally chaotic. His behaviour did not align for what had transpired, to him, but it was irrelevant what he thought at this point. The point was as clear as any sunlit day planet-side; he had failed Shiro. He sat shifting through the vargas beforehand in his mind; nothing particularly stuck out. Perhaps he should never of sedated him again after he first woke up and really talked to him about it all? Perhaps he should never allowed him to try the alcohol? Perhaps over food he should have pressed more about how he was as opposed to learning about the meeting held by High Command? Perhaps he should have taken him from Central all the times he wanted to leave prior and risk it all. He'd have had Kolivan to contend with, but that was no longer something he cared for. Kolivan would just have to put up with it.

 

He couldn't fail or abandon his family of aeons; not for a single life. He had been trained well: too well. He found Shiro tested that resolve of his to the brink - felt every little fray of the rope that was only just hanging on at this point. It was also just as possible that Shiro made him _confront_ his own problems, as opposed to accusing the man of pushing him. He should not think such a thing, and wasn't sure if he could ever tell Shiro that. It all depended on whether he'd found him in time.

 

Oh, he was a bit too fascinated by the knives he was wiping up earlier. At first Ulaz thought he was just checking to make sure it was dry and he'd zoned out again, although he hadn't cut his skin. That was the only piece of silver lining to it all. Aside from him not being dead.

 

He'd been roused from his sleep by Shiro whispering something before he rolled out of bed; he was terrible at being quiet when he moved. Ulaz had thought nothing much of it, Shiro had a habit of whispering things and giving him little kisses when he thought he was asleep, and he privately relished it all. Perhaps selfishly. He'd dozed on and off, until he realised it was a varga later and the place was deathly silent and Shiro was not there.

 

He'd found Shiro in the corner of his living room. He wasn't sure at first if the body was cool to the touch because he wasn't wearing much. Ulaz had rationalised he didn't respond because he was asleep. Until he saw the needle. Until he realised how slow and shallow his breathing was, how weak his pulse was.

 

He'd done his best to check his airways and keep them as clear as he could, before he scooped him up and ran.

 

Some guards had helped him, called ahead to the medical centre nearby. They were waiting outside ready. There was a few on Central considering the size of the place. Even though he was his healer, the healers on-site ordered him to wait as they saw to Shiro. For almost two vargas, Ulaz was literally sick with worry. He paced the room and bit his claws and fingers, shredding the skin with his teeth. There was an intern here, one who offered him a drink or something comforting while he waited. Ulaz hadn't spoken with the manners he knew he should of. He needed to apologise to them later.

 

Eventually he could see Shiro. That's where he was now. They'd given him something that would bond with the alcohol and medication, and his airways were clear. They asked about the new bruises on his body, but Ulaz advised they speak to Sendak about that. They decided not to ask anything else. They'd left a message for Sendak on Ulaz's behalf, since he didn't have his communicator on him. It was a waiting game now.

 

For such a grave mistake he'd made, he knew what he needed to do. Quietly, he apologised to Shiro and Thace, then asked his gods for forgiveness. He tried to settle as he kept his vigil as he awaited Sendak's arrival. Just like always.

 

-

 

Hepta found himself in one of the observation rooms hugging his arms around his body, metal fingers digging in to his bodysuit so tightly he was scared it would somehow disappear if he let go. His armour sat off to the side – he didn't want to look at it. He didn't want to be _here_.

 

“ _Did you wish for Champion to take you first? What did you expect it to feel like?” Sendak hissed in his ear._  
“ _N-No, sir!” The hand around his throat squeezed tighter.  
_“ _You lie to your superior officer?” Hepta could only reply with rasped breaths as Sendak hauled him back against his chest, teeth pressing against his collar bone. The ridges went deeper, and Hepta managed to stifle his scream into a sharp yelp. “It is a good thing neither of you can carry young,” Sendak hissed, “because the Empire doesn't need any more half-breeds. You would bring such a disgrace upon your clan, and you know what your offspring would end up as. Then again,” and Sendak thrust harder, “perhaps you may be suited to a life of servicing others?”_

 

Hepta could still feel the burn of the spank he received. He hated himself for making a purr, because Sendak done it again a few more times. That was when he noticed the precome, which he'd smeared over Hepta's face. Sendak said his ass was really fuckable, that if Hepta ever had his citizenship revoked he'd take care of him – said Shiro could do with something to entertain himself with. Hepta swallowed down the urge he had to respond; he couldn't do that. He had to take his punishment, that's what he had to do for Laddy. She'd had bad ones from the Emperor before but was always so strong, something he had to become; just like her. Even Kaleska took them, and she never deserved anything.

 

The fact that all of this was meant for Shiro scared Hepta, because he was understanding what exactly the guy had been through and he'd only had one experience. Well, judging from Sendak's displeasure at his performance, it was now scheduled for another time at his choosing. He couldn't tell anyone, said it was a private thing between slave owners and those who did stuff with them. He was grateful now he and Shiro never did fuck. Even if he wanted him to do it. He didn't care about his status; Shiro was Shiro.

 

He was probably with Ulaz.

 

Hepta rose on unsteady feet as he picked up his armour. He couldn't go home, not smelling and looking like he did. Laddy would be upset and pissed, and Kaleska would be just as bad. He didn't want them to be angry, he was _scared_ they'd do something risky. He was okay, he just needed to talk to someone, and Shiro was his friend. Ulaz was too. He sucked in a deep breath, and pulled his armour back on. He could do this, even if he wanted to tear all his fur and skin off.

 

–

 

He'd not even been in for five dobosh's before someone was hammering against the door. Ulaz snarled against his better judgement, stirring the sharp pain in his jaw. Sendak had been livid with him for his negligence. Ulaz had thrown back in his face that if he'd never manipulated Shiro in the first place, this would never have happened. Then Sendak punched him and told him to leave, but not before he'd made a pointed shot back that he'd _brought him here_ , which was more then Sendak could manage. Ulaz wanted to just bring punishment upon himself for his ineptitude, and hopefully he could soon.

 

He opened the door to find Hepta staring back at him. Ulaz raked his claws through his hair, about to open his mouth, but Hepta just burst into tears and sunk to his knees. That was when Ulaz could detect it; Sendak's scent. He quickly ushered Hepta in and brought him through to the kitchen. He moved to the bedroom and fished out some tissues, before returning and handing them to Hepta. Hepta blinked up at him, then the tissues in his hands. “Ulaz, I feel...feel _violated_.” Ulaz swallowed and crouched down, taking his metal hands in his. “What did he-”  
“Why's your mouth bloody?”  
“It is nothing-”  
“Where's Shiro?”  
“He is...” Ulaz looked down at their hands, “he is in the medical centre.”  
“Why? Ulaz,” Hepta pulled his hands away and gripped his shoulders tightly, the tiniest growl coming from his lips, “tell me why!” He looked up into the angry tear-stricken eyes and hissed out sharply. “He hurt himself-”  
“ _How?_ ” Hepta's voice rose, eyes narrowed dangerously. Ulaz snapped his jaws in retort. “Do _not take that tone with me!_ ” He rose and placed down the empty bottles with a clatter. “Do you need me to explain further?” He scrubbed at his eyes. He was tired, in pain, and angry at too many things right now.

 

Hepta made a long hiss and rubbed at his ear. “Is he gonna be okay?”  
“I do not know.”  
“Are you gonna be okay?”  
“I do not know either.” Ulaz flopped into the seat opposite, supporting his head in his hands. They remained in silence for a long time, until Ulaz heard the bottles scraping against the table. He looked up to find Hepta busying himself, grabbing two mugs from the side. “You need leaf-water.”  
“Hepta, you should rest-”  
“It hurts to sit down.” The response was cold, sharp. Not the typical Hepta at all. Not that Ulaz could blame him.

 

“I am sorry for being sharp.”  
“Well,” Hepta sniffed as he watched the water boil, “we've both had fucked up quintants.” There was pregnant pause until Hepta finally spoke again. “I don't think I can stay on Central.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“What I said. I can't stay here. In the Empire. I need out.” Ulaz narrowed his eyes at his back. “You want to leave the safety of the Empire? For what?” Hepta gripped the counter top hard. Such a brazen statement was a rarity to hear, and if his mind wasn't all over the place, he'd want to have a real talk about this. Neither of them were in the right headspace for that.

 

“I want...” he scowled at the mugs, “I want to change things, but I can't if I'm stuck here. Not with all the ridiculous rules in place. I just...Laddy and I, we want to stop this bullshit use of slavery, this ridiculous and dishonourable punishment system that is just top-down abuse!” He felt his fur bristle as he bared his fangs, tilting his head to Ulaz. “We used to be so much better as a species, even though the class system was fucked up. We're supposed to view _sentries_ over other living, breathing, and thinking life, and it's bullshit!”  
“I would be cautious how you speak, it could be perceived as treasonous.”  
“Tell Sendak then.” His lips pulled back as he loosened a low snarl. “Tell him or the fuckin' Emperor. Either way is painful. Everything's painful, Ulaz. He...he... _fuck_.” Hepta sunk down against the counter sobbing into his hand while he curled the other around his gut. “I feel so torn up.”

 

Ulaz settled on his knees besides him, pulling Hepta into his chest. “Do you need a shower?” He felt Hepta nod against his chest.  
“Do you want to sit here until you're ready to move?”  
Another nod. Ulaz got a little more comfortable and let Hepta bury himself into him. “T-Thank you. You're...you're a really good friend.” Hepta sniffed. Ulaz hummed in response as he held him tightly. He swallowed back the building lump in his throat.

 

“You were right to express yourself.”  
“Whaddya mean?”  
“I may not be so happy right now, either.”  
“How they treat Shiro?”  
“More than that,” Ulaz gave him a weak smile. “If you want me to patch you up, let me know. You may stay as well if you wish.”  
“Thanks, but right now I need to just...I need to say it – about shitty Empire.” Hepta sniffed again as he raised his head. Ulaz nodded for him to continue. “Can you swear on your honour you won't tell a soul of what I'm gonna say?”  
“I can.” Ulaz watched him carefully and Hepta nodded, steeling himself. “I want to join the Blade of Marmora. I know they're enemies but...but at least they're tryin' to do something – tryin' to make changes. The Empire is bullshit and I want to take it down.” Hepta balled his metal fists together. “I wanna do it to help Kaleska and Shiro, help everyone else who's been hurt by the Empire.”  
“It is quite bold to say such things. Do you not feel they could be in haste?” Ulaz muttered quietly. Hepta stared up into his eyes, “it may be bold, but Sendak's already insinuated some fucked up shit if I was to lose citizenship – how he...he...did _that._ It was supposed to be for Shiro and I just...no. What he said, what he _did to me_ ,” Hepta brought his teeth out on display in anger, “it finally hit my breaking point. We were better, Ulaz, before, kinda. We're fucked up now, everything's so fucked up and we shouldn't be. The Empire needs to be brought down, and if it's not gonna be through Voltron, it needs to be by us banding together.”

 

For a long while they sat on the floor in silence. To hear Hepta say such things was shocking, but he would need to pick his brain more in time; speak to Kolivan. Gods, he had too many things going on. First thing was to make tea. Then he would see to Hepta. He needed to focus, planning could wait for another quintant, talking to Kolivan could wait. “I promise on my honour I will not tell a soul.” Ulaz murmured back, carefully rubbing the top of Hepta's crest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My little Hepta, what are you doing?
> 
> This chapter has seen a few rewrites I will say, the Shiro scene was done about three times, Hepta's rape and aftermath rewritten four times. It could be more depressing but uh, yeah. Next chapter isn't exactly great either and as said last one, I have no idea when it's going to be nicer again for Shiro.
> 
> I will need to poss have a chapter of catch-up with Kolivan, Sendak, and Ulaz, you know, see what plot stuff is happening elsewhere and all that. So I may save that as a break up point soon so you guys get a breather. There will likely be some Thulaz again there and maybe some Sendak/Haxus because I am yet to write that and would like to before this fic is over. 
> 
> Does Hepta have conflicting feelings? Yeah. Is everyone a mess? Yes. Is Sendak an absolute bastard? OH YES. Does Ulaz need a fucking holiday? Gods he needs several. A vague hint, but Ulaz's ultimate endgame payoff is going to be worth it, at least to me. 
> 
> Next chapter timeskips a movement and the aftermath of the above has happened. We get to spend some time in Shiro's head again, if you can really call it that. I can't say it's nice for him either.


	49. Acculturate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments and kudos last chapter, and we're back again!
> 
> This was hard to write in terms of content. I know I've said before, but as the author I *do not condone in the slightest* the bad things I write. I write the problematic to explore it and my own abilities as a writer, but also I cannot have villainous characters who do not do or say problematic things. 
> 
> This chapter sees dubious consent, racism towards half-Galrans, and abuse of power/position against prisoners. More comments after the chapter's over, but yeah...if you follow me on Tumblr, you'll see that the summary for this chapter is: Haggar is a bitch.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy the chapter nonetheless. It is a Shiro-centric one (thank goodness). please do take breaks, honestly.

The last movement had seen her luck improve, even if it was a short-term win. Zarkon had _finally_ lost his temper with Sendak after the subject tried to end its miserable life. Until augmentation was complete, his ownership had been revoked. She may still have to contend with Zarkon wanting to bed the subject, and Ulaz was still allowed movemently visits in the labs above to check on it, but she could accept that; because now she had no more restrictions except not 'breaking him that cloning would be required'. She was certain she could remain within those confines now she had what she wanted on her table.

 

The fact it fought and injured Sendak was something she was not anticipating, but it at least showed that conditioning was working. At first she thought of just purging the memory of it trying to kill itself; that would bring about destabilisation with the others who did remember, but now it was hers to do as she pleased, further subterfuge on her part would only impede upon the needs of the Empire. Even if the prospect of causing more issues for Sendak was tempting.

 

She fixed the clamp around its leg. She needed to check the skeletal structure had been strengthened to the levels she was anticipating, and to do that, she needed to see how much pressure it could withstand. There were a few other places she needed to test after, but she had all the time in the universe, as the Emperor said. Haggar moved round to the terminal and checked the vitals, briefly glancing at its face, eyes closed and locked in another illusion.

 

-

 

_The Druid ambled along in front of Shiro as he was escorted by sentries that flanked either side of him. He was happy that the High Priestess had finished for the quintant, but wasn't entirely certain where he was going. The butt of a blaster gave him a sharp prod in the back and he picked up the pace, hoping to keep them placated enough. Without the collar, he had just become fair game to everything on Central Command, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He wasn't being taken to see the Emperor, but it wasn't the arena either._

 

_As they took a lift down, Shiro found himself in a green-lit corridor. Green was usually associated with prisoners – so perhaps it was a return to Central's prison system. It took his mind longer than it should have to catch up; yeah, he was still a prisoner. How he'd forgotten that fact he had no idea when he had constant reminders of his position, but maybe in the same vein as people who forgot how old they were – like Sam once, or some of his older colleagues – that was happening to him. Admittedly he'd been afforded a better set of living arrangements._

 

“ _The Emperor would like to see what you have learned so far, so you will be assisting the guards.”  
_ “ _What do you mean?”  
_ “ _You recall the prison ship when you would mix with the general populous?”  
_ “ _Vaguely.”  
_ “ _It is like that here but due to the volume,” the Druid loomed over him as they stopped, “it is done in shifts. You will complete six vargas.”  
_ “ _Why though?” Shiro frowned up at the Druid, who merely kept its gaze on him. “As you wish to serve the Empire, you need to prove yourself. You may slaughter for us in the arena, and you may have shown willingness to protect Galrans from our enemies, but you must show that you can serve the Empire in all capacities given to you. You may comprehend you are lesser then citizens, which is correct, but the Emperor wants to see how you would teach those who do not fully understand their place.”  
_ “ _But,” Shiro bit his lip, “aren't they all just fodder for the arena?”  
_ “ _Most, but not all.” The Druid ushered him in to the room and he was met by a few guards and by the looks of it, their superior officer, since her armour held a different insignia over the chest. “If Champion refuses to comply, you are at liberty to deal with him as you see fit.” Shiro watched the Galrans grin at each other in turn, before the woman nodded curtly._

 

“ _It would be best you slip into something more appropriate, Champion.” She stalked over, brushing a clawed finger down his face and over his exposed neck, before clicking her claws. Two guards appeared at her sides and with little effort, whisked him away to another room where he found himself quickly stripped. Clawed hands purposefully touched places they needn't be as they redressed him, and in a blur he was dragged out into another lift, ignoring the fingers that pressed and poked against his entrance through the fabric._

 

“ _So long as yous listen to us, yous ain't gonna have nothin' to worry 'bou', Champion.” The one to his left roughly purred into his ear.  
_ “ _He's right. If you're a good boy, we'll make sure to give you a gleamin' report. If you're not so good,” the one on his right snapped his head back and pushed the hand blaster against his lips, forcing them open, “this won't be the only thing in your mouth, got it?” Shiro nodded vigorously, his teeth catching around the metal muzzle. He slumped in their arms as the blaster was pulled away, heart hammering against his chest. They laughed as they righted him, and pushed him forwards on shaking legs through the open doors of the lift._

 

_For two vargas he shadowed the guards. The first two groups that came out were arena fodder. He could tell the ones that knew of him, because he'd catch them pointing or cowering away if he approached. The brave but foolhardy ones that attempted to pick fights with the guards were quickly dealt with, either via a shock stick between the legs or an uppercut. One prisoner that didn't know when to quit was hauled off and Shiro was ordered to follow. Once they were out of the view of any cameras, the guard tossed them to the ground and spent a good five dobosh's kicking their chest and face. Shiro had to turn away and pretend to 'look out' for any other threat, which the guard found amusement at._

 

“ _You gut prisoners without a second thought, but me doing this? Now you gotta problem?”  
_ “ _They're going to the arena,” he muttered, wincing at the crack and grunt he heard, “it's not like they have a chance at surviving. You doing that just makes my job easier and breaking my opponents just pisses me off.”  
_ “ _Still gotta show a bit of discipline, somethin' that body of yours knows well, right?” He felt the guard move up close behind him and Shiro steeled himself as he was turned around to face him. “I'm not saying they shouldn't be punished,” he kept his tone level as he spoke, “but we all know what their fate is, so why bother putting in effort like that? The Emperor and crowds hate a quick battle where they just run or limp about like some lame animal. There's no point.”  
_ “ _You'll get why we do it soon. Little gobshite here needs to learn their place, even if it's not for long.” They turned and gave them one final kick to the gut before moving away, motioning for Shiro to follow._

 

_Shiro mustered an apologetic look before leaving, and received a glower in return. He couldn't afford a bleeding heart for them, because like when he started back in the arena; he would die if he humanised them. They had to be seen as the enemy, even in here. If he dared to relax that rule then he'd slip up; and with what he knew, what he'd seen, what he'd sold of himself, that was something he couldn't afford. He once tried to convince himself that it was better to just kill them so they never had to deal with this type of life, but it didn't stick because the thrill of the arena was too intoxicating. He enjoyed what was in essence his stress relief, and what would make any human sick, didn't phase him any more. The others may try and convince him he wasn't a monster, but the occasional looks he did catch or snippets he heard suggested otherwise. Shiro knew what he was, what he'd become._

 

_In time, the group was ushered out and prisoners deemed worthy for the labour camps were sent in. Compared to those sentenced to the arena, these prisoners were much more compliant in nature, and even though the atmosphere was intense, there an odd feeling of passiveness, if Shiro could call it that. The prisoners sat chatting in groups or stretching. He wouldn't say they were having fun, but they seemed almost content here. He found himself curious and made a cautious walk towards one prisoner sat alone with some water, three long antennae drooping back over their head. Two lifted slowly as he approached, and the prisoner stared up at him through four grey eyes._

 

“ _I haven't done anything, sir.”  
_ “ _I know, I have a question. You uh, don't need to call me 'sir',” Shiro came to a stop in front of them. They made a whistling noise through their nose but kept their position. “What question would a traitor like you have for me, sir?”  
_ “ _How can you all be so...relaxed, I guess, about being here?” Shiro ignored the traitor line. He could...understand where the prisoner was coming from. The alien shrugged their shoulders. “Learn to read a room, colluding dreck. No one wants to be here, the only thing we're happy about is that you or those other traitors who would agree to fight in the arena don't get to kill us. How do you even sleep at night, sir? How do you even justify senseless murder?” The alien scowled up at him and Shiro turned to leave. He had his answer, and conceded he had misread the atmosphere and at least this prisoner._

 

“ _Oh, so you're gonna leave are you? Don't like hearing truths spat at you, sir?” The prisoner snapped. “I heard about you, what you did to your own kind. Whisked away to bed some high-ranking Commander as well,” Shiro turned his head, steely gaze on those fierce eyes that scowled back at him, “oh, that caught your attention? So what? Did you just open your legs for some protection? Didn't think you could handle sleeping like the rest of us?” The alien started to circle him, a small crowd forming.  
_ “ _It wasn't like that. You don't-”  
_ “ _No, Champion, sir, I understand. See this is why you don't belong with us – why you don't even rank as a prisoner – you look as you do, probably pretend you got no choice but to play the oppressor. Bit of a victim-complex I bet,” the prisoner spat at his feet, “but see you do have a choice, you just don't fight it because it'd upset this little world, right? That, or you just want more power, I mean, we see what that arm can do when we're forced to watch your fights. We all know what you can do, all threatened with you or the other bastard traitors. You agreed to that,” they pointed at his right hand, “you allowed them to dig their claws in and corrupt you further.”  
_ “ _Don't talk about them – or me - like you even know what we've been through-”  
_ “ _Oh, what you've been through? Wow, ladies, gents, and all you other glorious aliens, did you hear the Champion? Sir, that isn't gonna fly here, you don't know the half of what we endure, because you aren't here.”_

 

_The alien jabbed a finger into his chest, “you don't know what we're subjected to, you don't see the sick or the dying, you don't get beaten for no reason, you don't get assaulted and left bloody and broken on the floor of your cell, sir. You have never been a real prisoner of the Galra, just a little pet begging with his legs open for a warm bed and something to fill your stomach.” They spat in Shiro's face this time. “If you didn't want to be considered a traitor, you could die in the arena. If you didn't want to be a traitor, you'd have put up more resistance. You could have stopped this, but you never did and now you think you can just come in asking questions, trying to be our friend, offering us looks of pity? Who the fuck do you think you are, sir?” They went to poke again but Shiro clamped his metal hand around their wrist._

 

“ _Stop provoking me. I shouldn't have bothered you, fine-”  
_ “ _Ahh, ahh, ahh, Champion. Prisoner's causin' shit, disrespectin' yous. Gotta put 'im in 'is place, know what I'm sayin'?” Shiro snorted when a hand came down on his shoulder, “remember, Emperor's watchin' ya. If ya let 'im disrespect yous, we gotta deal with ya. I mean,” Shiro stilled when fingers traced around his naked throat, “if it's what ya want. From what I hear-” the guard whistled and laughed at the crack his human fist made against the prisoner's jaw._

 

_The alien landed on the floor and Shiro settled down on top of their chest, eyes ablaze. He wasn't having this again, he wasn't going to give any one a reason – Zarkon or otherwise – to torture him. He punched the alien again. What it said stung, and was half-misinformed, half-truth, and he hated that; hated how easy it got under his skin. Hated how he rose to this, how he caved. Maybe it made sense, maybe it was right. It was like early on back on the ship. The others avoided him, some tried to square up to him. He was never kept like them, so he didn't understand what happened here, but they didn't understand either what it was like outside the confines of the prison. It wasn't an us-versus-them thing or a pissing contest as to who was the most fucked up in here; everyone had their own trauma._

 

_He was vaguely aware of someone pulling him up as his thoughts buzzed in his head like angry wasps. They didn't understand – couldn't – what was at stake. Why should he care for someone who meant nothing to him – why did it matter if he was patient or polite? They'd already made up their mind about him, so surely he was justified? Kindness rarely got him anywhere out here, and he was just trying to be civil. He didn't start this-_

 

_No, this is what the prisoner meant. He was justifying an abuse of his station. But slaves were below that – he was below that – was it fair game if they were the same status? Was he really the same status, because the slave hierarchy was confusing at the best of times. Did he ever abuse his position with Keith? What was this- Shiro snarled out, grabbing his hair. He pulled himself from the hold and stormed back over to the alien on the ground, realising how bloody it's jaw really was. The others would have made their mind up after this outburst, so what did it matter now? Like his attempts to compartmentalise all the different little personas he'd managed to imagine up to see him through the phoebs, now he needed a new one just for this. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath._

 

“ _Don't you fucking dare speak to me like that again, dreck!” He bared his teeth as he lifted the alien from the ground by their shirt, their head slumping to the side. It's be easy to snap their neck. He shouldn't. “'Cause if you do, I will make sure you see the arena, and you can fight for your fucking miserable life. You understand?” The alien cracked two eyes open defiantly but they didn't answer. Shiro snorted and dropped the body to the floor, returning the spit from earlier as he glowered down. Was he ever this bad? Maybe. “Your place is at the fucking bottom,” he kicked the alien over before glaring at the deathly silent crowd, “so either learn to fucking comply or suffer the consequences, because you will wish you were fucking dead.” With that he stalked away, body shaking and a sick feeling coiling in his gut._

 

_He forced shaking fingers down his throat to make himself sick, but it only served to make him feel worse. What was he doing? Why did he- with his free hand he pushed and curled his fingers through the white strands of hair. He shouldn't have done that. Slaves and prisoners were the same thing – they were all property of the Emperor – Zarkon was going to punish him for his actions. His heart hammered against his chest and the blood pumped in his ears, but it wasn't loud enough to drown the argument in his mind. Then again punishment was good, punishment meant he was learning something. How could he forget? He shouldn't fear it, like death. No, it wasn't Galran to fear death or pain or punishments. He would comply, he'd comply just like he was supposed to, like he had so many times before that it was second nature._

 

_Besides, the guards gave the impression he was allowed. He had to put them in their place – not because he wanted to throw his weight around – but because they'd spoken so out of turn. The guard implied if he didn't, something bad would happen. He chose to be here and be like them, of course abuse of power was rife; it was everywhere he fucking looked. Only on those beneath him - a concept difficult to understand when he didn't really grasp his own place. Was this an issue about the lack of control in his life? But he was property. Empire property. He had no autonomy. Sendak said so, the Emperor had said so, the witch had said so. If he had no autonomy how could prisoners? How could he find an answer to a question he'd never considered once in his life? Why did it always lead to more questions? A never-ending cycle of unanswered thoughts that rattled about in his mind, until all Shiro wanted was to scream and smash his head to pieces just to silence the continuous stream of noise._

 

_Was this why the Galra hated questions too? Why he had been told so much so long ago to not ask them? Were the Galra just accepting of things as they were; just done as they were ordered to because it was easier? He liked not thinking and having these internal dilemmas, and was unsure whether this was a problem because he was human at his core. Even if the witch purged him of problem areas, how could she even attempt to get rid of his ability to question and reason? It wasn't like she could control him, and if the Galra had mind-controlling technology, then surely he'd probably come across it by now? It wasn't that he didn't respond to orders, it's just that with all the times Sendak allowed him to push back because he enjoyed it, it'd maybe created this other hell for him. Or it was the unlearning phase still, which he was within Shiro supposed. It was different with the Emperor, but he had made the boundaries clear from the start or if the situation changed. Shiro shook his head, a twisted smile on his lips; this was why he enjoyed all the sex, it didn't give him room to think, gave him room to feel something again. To wish away his higher brain functions was ridiculous; gods he was a beast._

 

“ _Yous gonna hide out in here all quintant, or was this a hint yous wanna make it private?” He heard the guard kick the stall and Shiro spat out the remaining sick. “I'm gonna come out.” He spat into the bowl again, unable to shift the taste from his mouth. As he stepped out, the guard gave him a glance up and down. “Yous look like shit.”  
_ “ _I feel like shit.”  
_ “ _Eh, yous still gotta work,” he moved to the side as Shiro went to the sink, scrubbing at his clammy skin and rinsing his mouth out, “yous did alrigh', showin' that dreck its place, yer hands a real pretty colour.”  
_ _Shiro only hummed in response.  
_ “ _Fact is, Champion, they's need puttin' down an' remindin'. S'okay,” Shiro flicked his gaze to the mirror when he felt two hands grip his shoulders, “gets easier in time,” he felt thumbs press into his tight shoulder blades, “'specially when yous realise they's just objects. Like a chair. Break it? Replace it. Don't feel, don't matter; they's too stupid really. I means,” the hands dropped down to his hips, “yous know what its like to be an object, righ'? Yous know yous belong to us, righ'?”  
_ “ _Yeah.” Shiro stared up at his reflection in resignation.  
_ “ _So theys the same. Jus' yous are more useful now, yous wanna be here,” Shiro felt the hard press of the Galran's cock against his back, “yous have authori'y over 'em, do as yous please...just remember wes got power over you. So simples, Champion.” The guard's fingers stilled over his hips and Shiro swallowed back the lump in his throat._

 

 _He was pushed forward. Shiro splayed his hands out against the wall so he didn't fall into the sink. Clawed hands yanked the fabric covering his ass down to his knees and wet fingers roughly pushed inside him, thrusting and curling quickly to loosen him. At least it was an attempt. “Friend o' mine said yous were a good fuck on Ragnar. Shame Sendak kept ya mostly to 'imself.” The guard bore down over him, his warm breath teasing along Shiro's neck. “Ya didn' say no.”  
_ “ _I didn't say yes, either.”  
_ “ _Yous a good boy,” the guard muttered as he pressed his teeth into Shiro's jaw, “and yous are gonna take every inch o' me in yous tight ass, righ'?”_

 

_Shiro didn't answer because they both knew it; he would no matter what. “Just make it quick, since we're supposed to be working,” he winced as the pace picked up. It hurt, but at least he didn't need to think for a few dobosh's. The guard chuckled in his ear before running his tongue over the cartilage shell, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. Another chuckle, and after a few more dobosh's, the fingers were replaced. The guard moaned above him, giving a sharp thrust forward. “Boy, how yous ain't fucked loose I gots no clue, but gods,” he snapped his hips forward, “if we gets yous again, well, hope I can gets seconds.” Shiro grunted in reply as another sharp ridge pushed inside._

 

_He caught his pallid reflection between stifled pants. Sweat beaded against his brow; hair a mess and stuck to his face. He was disgusting, but all the worry, all the conflict, it was leaving his mind. The pain was good for that. Shiro found himself canting his hips backwards. He wasn't prepared right at all, but it was better then fully dry. He could feel the rim burn from the intrusion, feel the tears. He ignored the feeling of his own cock twitching, how it pressed against the cold wetness of the counter. He didn't want release from this; didn't deserve that. He was an object, and when did objects get a say in their treatment? They didn't._

 

 _It didn't take long for the guard to come. At first he didn't really notice until he pulled out and something hot and wet trailed down his thighs. “Clean youself up, yous filthy.”  
_ “ _Yeah.”  
_ “ _Yeah, what?” The guard's hand stung as it smacked his ass cheek. Shiro shuddered as he felt more come run down his legs. “Yeah, sir.”  
_ “ _Better. Yous gotta get past these bad manners, boy. Gotta realise we ain't like yous old master. Gotta respect that.”  
_ “ _Yes, sir.”  
_ “ _Good. Now clean up.” Shiro watched him rearrange his uniform, rubbing his hands into the side, before leaving. He glanced back at his reflection and sighed, pulling a clammy hand away from the wall, noting the thumb that was against the mirror had left a print that quickly faded away. He needed to assess the damage, but at least the tissue could soak up the blood he was expecting._

 

_The remaining vargas seemed to move by in a slow blur. Eventually the labour camp prisoners were replaced with another bunch, and after them came the first group of prisoners deemed for pleasure slave status, as Shiro quickly learned when the guard who'd shoved a blaster in his mouth had wandered off with one who “needed his full attention,” as he put it. The other one had explained to him it was usual for these slaves to try and strike deals for better treatment. They'd be sold off at auctions, but apparently it was normal for brothels to buy them up and send them to any port, station, or colony in the Empire._

 

“ _Lotta them're half-breeds,” the guard muttered.  
_ “ _Half-Galra?”  
_ “ _Yeah. Filthy fucks honestly.”  
_ “ _Why's that?” Shiro tilted his head to the side, carefully watching one with yellow sclera and bright eyes glance over, their ears definitely Galran, but offset by the two horns that seemed to follow the curve of their skull. This one had ebony skin with elaborate purple markings running over what flesh was exposed. The guard shot a scornful look at the prisoner. “Dirties the blood-line. They's weaker then pure-bloods, only dilute the gene pool, an' just...siring offspring with a slave or some alien?” He glanced at Shiro, “it's disgustin'. They's disgustin'.”  
_ “ _Are they bad people?”  
_ “ _What? Remembers yous manners.”  
_ “ _Half-Galrans, are they bad people, sir?” Shiro looked up and the guard rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, 'cause they's half-breeds. Best sterilised an' used if yous ask me.”  
_ “ _They didn't ask to be born. I don't get it, why punish them?”  
_ “ _Punishin' parents innit? Galrans know wha' 'appens if they sire 'em, still do it anyway.”_

 

_Shiro glanced over at the half-Galran again. It wasn't their fault, and this half-baked racism was just like that on Earth. Shiro shifted on his feet; why any Galran would have a kid when they already knew the outcome if it was found out made no sense to him – why risk the life of your child like that? Then again, the alternative was just as dangerous; being reported was likely since the Empire was so large, and if they loved each other...well, who was he to judge? He had no desires for children of his own, so perhaps that was why he couldn't fully grasp it. Still. His thoughts were out of line, shifting the blame like that, presuming the parents irresponsible and didn't care. Even if it was a knee-jerk thought, it wasn't right. He scrubbed his hand through his hair, hoping at least the half-Galrans wouldn't have it too rough, but from his own experience it was unlikely._

 

“ _Isn't the Prince one, sir?”  
_ “ _Prince Lotor?” The guard barked a laugh, “yeah, a disgustin' half-breed. Half-Altean of all thin's.”  
_ “ _They're the race that destroyed Diabazaal, right, sir?”  
_ “ _Yeah. Wiped th' bastards from the universe. Deserved it if yous ask me.”  
_ “ _So,” Shiro frowned at the floor, “who does the Prince belong to, sir?”  
_ “ _He sadly gets a free pass. Position an' all that.” The guard's growl was low, and Shiro refrained from his next line of questioning. He remembered snippets of conversation between the Emperor and Sendak, how neither seemed to particularly like him. He wondered, briefly, what had happened to Lotor's mother. Knowing the Emperor, she was probably dead. The concept of the Emperor loving someone or caring for anything that wasn't the Black Lion was strange, but maybe he'd relax once he had it and Voltron. Maybe the Alteans stole it from him; maybe they were the true villains here and the Galra would've been okay if they didn't destroy their home world. There was still a lot he didn't understand, except destroying their home seemed to give Sendak and the Emperor effectively a hard-on talking about it._

 

_For the rest of the shift he turned thoughts over in his head, stopping when a prisoner would come to him asking if there was anything he wanted. He'd declined; he wasn't going to take advantage like that. Even if he knew he'd be careful he just...couldn't do it. They were desperate, scared; all too close to home. He caught himself wondering if he should out of pity, but he still came back to the same result – he'd be taking advantage. Roused again from his thoughts, he padded after the guards who ordered him to assist shepherding the prisoners back in._

 

“ _Champion, yous didn't do half-bad.”  
_ “ _Someone might get that gleamin' report, huh?” The other tilted his head up, a predatory smirk upon his face. Shiro nodded, feeling numb to the experience. He didn't like being here; preferred to be in the arena considerably. “So what happens now?”  
_ “ _We's done. C'mon, gotta meet yous escort, handover, all tha' bovas-shit.” The other guard lead him away, and Shiro tilted his head back to see the next group. Some looked like possible half-Galra, then there were some other aliens. As they filed into the lift, he turned. “Are they also pleasure-slaves-to-be?”  
_ “ _Yeah.” Shiro didn't look at the guard, but narrowed his eyes at a small figure. It was curiously small with pale skin. Human-looking with a mess of black hair. He'd not seen any human-looking aliens that had similar skin colours before. They turned towards the closing doors._

 

 _If every organ in his body could drop, it did.  
_ “ _K-Keith?!” Shiro stammered out as the doors slid shut. He threw himself forwards, trying to push his metal fingers in to tease it back open, but was pulled back and thrown against the wall.  
_ “ _Champion! Th' fuck yous doin'?”  
_ “ _Lemme out! Lemme back in there!”  
_ “ _Shift's over, Champion! If you want that good report, you better fuckin' behave!” The other guard pushed the hand blaster between Shiro's eyes and held him by the throat firmly. Shiro snarled low as he struggled. He had to get to Keith, he had to get him out of here. He had to protect him. How he got here was irrelevant – he had to, had to-_

 

_Dark spots formed in Shiro's vision as he struggled. The grip was vice-like, just like when Sendak had him pinned to the kitchen floor. He thrashed until he could no longer do it, until the darkness took over._

 

_-_

 

Haggar drew her lips together into a thin line and checked it back again. She had been planning just purge bits of the illusion, like last time but this...this was better to leave as it was. This seemed more realistic; something the subject responded to without wariness. It was desperate and the vitals had spiked. Unlike the previous illusion, this one she'd decided needed a more coherent narrative, and so she'd set harder parameters. The subject's mind taking this route...it really was so open to manipulation.

 

She drummed her fingers against the table. She could leave it as a false memory, but she would need to talk to it if that was the case. Considering it only knew it was missing it's collar and that she was keeping it, which was all she'd bothered to tell it, she could certainly make sure it behaved now she'd seen that reaction. It cared for the little one – one she had seen in its head - and seemed willing to risk it's life. This was it, what she needed for absolute control. It just meant that her illusions needed to follow a set narrative, but that was no problem. The subject had no concept of time or what quintant it was, so far as it knew it could be happening over quintants, movements, or phoebs.

 

Easing open one of it's eyes, she tilted her head at the sclera. It didn't look as white as normal. Perhaps it was the lighting, or perhaps it was sick. The white in its hair had also become a tad more apparent. She shrugged her shoulders and moved from the room. Carrying the subject could be done by one of her other experiments, then they could clean the gore away while she worked. The limbs weren't crushed to the extent of the arm all those phoebs' ago, but the strengthening had been a success.

 

-

 

He awoke to find the witch staring down at him. It took Shiro a few ticks to get a bearing on his surroundings. He was in a cell, on the floor. His legs and left arm felt numb while his body felt warm. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it sharply as her eyes narrowed. “Champion. Do you know where you are?”  
“I'm...in a cell, High Priestess.”  
“Where?” Her eyes narrowed further as she scrunched her nose.  
“In...the labs?”  
“You are in my lab. Until augmentation is finished you will remain here with me. However,” her lips rose into a cruel smile, “you will do work as instructed.”  
“L-Like earlier?”  
“Yes. I have been informed that you became...difficult.” She moved towards him, brandishing a shock stick that Shiro couldn't help but flinch away from.

 

“As Sendak's ownership has been revoked,” she could feel her smile widen as its jaw dropped and it grabbed pathetically at it's neck, the realisation clearly kicking in, “because of your stunt to end your own suffering, you are mine. You will see your medical officer, and you will go to the Emperor, but know I am in charge of your punishments.” She lifted the shock stick and it buzzed to life as she brought it down against its shoulder. “You call for the human we found.” She struck it again. “Who would have ever thought that it was someone you could know. The odds are statistically miniscule.” She clicked her tongue as it flopped to the side howling as she struck again. It really was well-behaved as it took punishment. “It is unfortunate that it is going to be sold off.” She struck it's ribs. “Unless you are willing to bargain with me.” One more strike to the stomach would do.

 

Shiro's body shuddered as he looked up at her. He blinked as he moved his mouth but no words would come. “You cannot speak? You do not wish to make a deal?”  
“P-P-Please.” He rasped, tongue feeling so thick in his mouth he wasn't sure he'd choke. If it meant Keith would be safe he'd give everything he had left to give, up. Keith couldn't go through what he had – just couldn't. It'd break him; break Shiro to see him so messed up. He'd failed in trying to kill himself, and now Keith was here. He licked his dry lips, trying to reach out to her. “N-Not K-Keith. Do anything. N-No. Please.”  
“If you will do anything, I will obtain him with the understanding that: you will desist your obstreperous conduct around others, you will inform _no one_ of this deal, you will remain silent in the labs unless spoken to, you will take any and all commands by myself or from those you see as law, you will not be defiant in any way, shape or form, and finally,” at this she stood over him, “you will say exactly what I tell you to. If you are uncooperative, he shall receive all your punishments. If you become defiant, I will harm him, and if you dare try to end your _miserable_ life again, I will make you watch as I dissect him _alive_. I did want another human specimen, after all, to see if you are just a mutation of your species or whether there is any other use for your kind. Perhaps if you're lucky,” and at this Shiro felt his body freeze up, “like Project Lutka, I could graft some of his body to yours.”  
“D-Don't.”

 

“Do we have a deal, Champion?” Shiro looked up into those cold golden eyes. He knew he was making a mistake – none of this made sense at all – but she knew what happened earlier, so it must be true. He had to say yes, the risk to Keith was too great.  
“High Priestess...do whatever you need to with me, but please... _save him_.”  
“This is the only reprieve and deal I will make with you. Understand?”  
“Yes, High Priestess. T-Thank you.” Shiro didn't know if he should bow or not, but did anyway. He'd grovel all he needed to if it kept Keith safe from her wrath.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to start seeing a little more almost Sheithy content. I can't decide whether I'll have them fuck because...part 2 is going to be /interesting/ to say the least. But yes, I said Haggar was a bitch and honestly...writing her is one of the hardest things in this fic. 
> 
> Shiro...you're going to notice a shift in how he refers to people/prisoners soon, is all I will say. The basis for illusion-based conditioning is similar to people who listen to self-help/relaxation/language audio when they sleep. Haggar can control the narrative and the characters, but Shiro's mind and inner thought process is all his own. It's painful to write, to bring out these traits, but for the direction of this fic I need it to happen, and I don't want to just allude to it all off-screen either. For the position he's in, what's been taken, it's sadly becoming his only course he can realistically take. Of course, the next question becomes when does he stop becoming a victim of the system and a contributor? That'll be something we'll see in part 2. Trying to find an answer to these questions I set up is why I enjoy writing this fic so much, hence the updates.
> 
> Chapter 50 has been started but honestly I'm going to write the next chapter of In Your Gravity because I need a break from this. I got a bit shakey (odd, I'm sure) when I was writing 50 because I /know/ what's coming. There will be Sharkon in that chapter, and if you can recall how someone learned patterns to guards...well...it had to start somewhere, right? If you enjoy Keith pain, we will be seeing some of that in the coming chapters. 
> 
> I doubt it'll be long before the next update, but thank you all!


	50. Resolute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been three thousand years, but after ship week I'm back! I hope you all enjoyed the other stories I put out, they were a lot of fun to write, even if some were annoying as heck at times. BUT NOW, I'm back on my main and BOY HAVE I HAD IDEAS. The break did do me a lot of good.
> 
> Pre-warnings because there are a few: THERE IS GONNA BE IMPLIED BUT NOT FULLY EXPLICIT M/F THIS CHAPTER (eating out, pegging). This will involve Shiro. Like before, if you're LGBTAQ+ BE AWARE cause it's skirting corrective rape (skirting in that they aren't trying to make him straight, they just want to have sex with him). THIS IS ONLY PLANNED AS A ONE-OFF, and I don't want to tag spam. You. Have. Been. Warned. It is a heavy chapter.
> 
> Otherwise non-con (drugged and not), some dub-con bits, Shiro's continuous spiralling mindset and more galra racism. Please take breaks, honestly. I mean it's long again, surprise surprise, at this point. There's one bit where I'm going to say that I don't know if Shiro sounds sexist, but to me I sat there like wait a second I'm sure that is. See below a/n for more notes on that. 
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy, and thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos from you guys!

So far, everything had been going okay down in the labs. The witch had started on the second phase of augmentation: upgrading his senses. She was upping his eyesight and hearing in small increments so he didn't experience sensory overload, which was a kindness Shiro wasn't expecting from her. He wondered whether it was because he was complying with her demands and even asking if she needed extra jobs doing when he was allowed to speak. Anything to keep her happy, but most importantly, anything to keep Keith from harms' way. He'd had to pull more shifts down in the prison, and the job was becoming steadily easier – especially when rebel prisoners were there. He hadn't seen them in the arena yet, but in time he would, and he'd enjoy tearing their bodies asunder. He _knew_ they were lying as to where Matt was.

 

He glanced over at Keith, who was asleep on the slab. He didn't know how long it'd been since he got here, but Shiro was grateful they could share a cell together. It made him a little less lonely and gave him something to focus on. There were times when his thoughts raced too much, times he'd look over and wonder how easily he could snap his wrist, his neck, his spine. The intrusive thoughts were just that, and he knew he wouldn't dare. Still, the knowledge that his brain considered hurting Keith made him sick to his core. He rubbed at his forehead, wishing these weird ringing headache would go.

 

“...ro?”  
Shiro blinked from his musings to find Keith peering at him through heavy eyelids.  
“It's fine – I'm here and you're safe,” Shiro padded over and settled in the small curve of his body, “get more rest, okay?” Keith nodded slowly up at the forced smile he offered and brought his body closer. He took Shiro's hand in his equally clammy one, running a thumb against Shiro's calloused skin.  
“Thanks,” Keith mumbled, holding it tighter, “for saving me.”  
“You don't need to thank me for anything, Keith.”  
“You saved me from prison again,” Keith's bright eyes looked brighter in the light as he tilted his face up, “and from a life of I don't even wanna know what.” Shiro couldn't help but loosen a low chuckle that made Keith raise an eyebrow.  
“What's funny?”  
“The prison thing. Apparently on Earth and in space I'm able to work some fucking,” he shook his head, “magic, I guess.” He offered a real smile down at Keith, who closed his eyes, lips tugged lightly upwards.

 

“How're you sleeping?” Shiro offered, motioning to the slab. Keith sighed and reopened his eyes.  
“It's not comfortable in the slightest, but it must be worse for you on the floor.”  
“I don't mind sleeping against the wall.”  
“Doesn't it hurt your back, old-timer?”  
“Nah, I'm fine.” That was an old nickname that made him internally laugh.  
“You must be used to this, I guess?”  
“You could say that,” Shiro swallowed as he rotated the metal hand. Keith sighed and pulled himself up, draping the blanket over Shiro's shoulders and settling close beside him. After everything he'd hallucinated, having Keith here with him was difficult. He didn't want to get too close in case he did something he couldn't fix.

 

“I'll likely be out again soon.”  
“With the alien?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Shiro...what does she do?” Keith all but flinched away as Shiro glanced down at him. Sighing, he wrapped his human arm around his shoulder and pulled Keith to his chest, earning a small noise of surprise.  
“This and that. You don't need to worry yourself about it,” he muttered as he toyed with the black strands in his metal fingers, “just know that I'm okay with what happens here.” He felt Keith nod slowly into his chest. Gods, he had changed.

 

They sat in silence just holding each other. Shiro studied the tangled mess of black hair, then traced the muscles through the fabric. Shiro narrowed his eyes; he'd of thought he would've been sent to the arena with how much he used to fight. He frowned, righting a confused Keith and pushing himself from the slab. Keith gave him a questioning look as Shiro carefully rotated each of his arms.

 

“Uh, what're you doing?” Keith finally asked as Shiro gently pulled him up to stand.  
“Trying to work out why you weren't sent to the arena,” Shiro chewed his lip as he paced around Keith, pulling his eyes away from the curve of his spine, “you're more...defined then Matt was, but we were both sent there,” he finally stopped in front of Keith, “I just don't understand why they sent you for _that_.”  
“A guard on this ship, he, uh,” Shiro narrowed his eyes as Keith dropped his head to gaze at his feet, twisting his hands together.  
“Keith, what did the guard do? Did he-” He watched Keith vigorously nod his head, making a small ashamed whimper that had Shiro mortified, livid, and protective all at once. He carefully bent down and offered his arms out. Keith pressed himself against his chest, body shaking in his hold.

 

“I'm here, okay, I'm here and I'll protect you.” He wanted to tell him no one would do it again, but he couldn't promise that. He wanted to say he was safe, but neither of them truly were.  
“The guard said he'd hack a-and change it. S-Said I'd see a lot of action because human's are so scarce-”  
“That's enough,” Shiro held him tighter against his body, “I know, I know.”  
“He shown me. Shiro, I'm...I'm so sorry, I-” Keith wiggled free, holding his arms across his chest.  
“That was a long time ago,” Shiro forced a stiffness to his voice Keith didn't seem to pick up on, “and I'm doing a lot better now.”  
Keith merely nodded and gripped hold of his human arm.  
“I'm scared. Can you sit with me?”  
“Of course.” Shiro picked him up and carefully sat him down on the slab, pulling the blanket around both their shoulders. He wanted to kiss him, make him feel better and forget through the sex. Keith wasn't like him. It'd probably make him worse. It had to be natural – that would be more fair and something he didn't mind affording him, even if he looked so, so beautiful. Even if he knew it'd ease the hurt.

 

-

 

She placed the medication and a glass of water down in front of Shiro before moving away. “Have you had any sensory disturbances?”  
“No, High Priestess.” He flicked his gaze up to see her pause in place, before moving to her terminal.  
“That is acceptable. The Emperor has requested your presence for the quintant. I will be busy on another project,” he heard her tap her claws against the surface, “if I hear you have displeased him, the boy will suffer.”  
“Yes, High Priestess.” He swallowed back the tablet and stared down into the water, catching a glimpse of his face before the light erased it.

 

A very, very drunk Iverson had once gone off on one about symbolism in films, and briefly Shiro wondered whether this small, random incident was some hint. _Hint for who? Everyone already knows you're lost_. Who's everyone? _Literally everyone? Aliens, other humans if they saw you back on Earth? What did you think I meant?_ I dunno. Hey, who said I was lost? _You? You're thinking this – we're thinking this – it was just a catch of the light, it's not symbolic of shit, and you're not in some dream or story or whatever bullshit. Shit's rough, sure, but let's not do that._

 

 _Look where thoughts have got us? Let's dehumanise everyone in the arena to survive and try and be humane in killing them?_ _Nope! Now we're cracking open chests like an egg._ It's not like an egg. _Okay it's not like an egg, more like a smashing open nuts._ But I'm...we're good at it? _Well, yeah, there is the arm which kinda helps? The training helped too- look, the point is thinking thoughts has made us considerably worse off in the long run._ So has not thinking and doing impulsive things. _Which is rare_. That's not a justification. _Nor is thinking._

 

 _Look, I'm here as an inner voice of reason, conscious, whatever you want to call it. I'm here to try and stop you from drowning within. We're brittle – a castle of glass – whatever you want to call it._ Like self-preservation? _Yeah we'll go with that. I'm not gonna usurp control or act like some split personality._ Well no, that's what all the other compartmentalised bits are for. _No, that's just coping mechanisms. Look, there is still a moral compass in here somewhere. It might be considerably off compared to before, but it's there. We are keeping some minimum fucking baseline morality._ Whose morality? _Well it's gonna be more Galra-aligned now. I dunno, stealing is still wrong. Let's not do that. Or killing kids, you know that one makes you irredeemable._ Well I'm not going to go and kick a baby. _That's the point, you're not. They're tiny and defenceless. Look, stop being a dreck otherwise you'll be getting above your station and you know that's just going to screw us up more, okay? Also Keith. He'll get hurt in our place._ I know.

 

Shiro drank the water down and sighed, staring down at his hands. So much as they were clean, he could see the blood stained up to his elbows as clear as the scars that marred his body. He really never could return to Earth. He had to make sure Keith did. He clenched his hands tightly together; he would be the best-behaved _kragna_ for the Emperor, bark and pant like a dog if he asked him to. The High Priestess was tricky, she may hurt Ulaz or Hepta or the Commander in place of Keith even if he was a good boy.

 

-

 

“You're ready for the Emperor,” the small concubine gave his cleaned naked body a once over before pushing him by the hip, “he requested you wear nothing.”  
“I understand,” Shiro followed behind her towards the chambers. Usually Zarkon liked them wearing something so he could shred it or fuck them in it. If he was having a good quintant, sometimes he'd take it off nicely. Shiro brushed his fingers over his neck. Up until now, he'd had his collar, and wondered if now it was gone, whether Zarkon would be rougher with him. When he was good, it didn't hurt as much, and he preferred it that way. At least then when Zarkon continued it was still pleasurable.

 

They entered to find Zarkon snarling into the ear of the hysterical alien he was buried in. He had her hands pinned above her head and the other holding her small hips. He didn't look up as the two approached; Shiro cursing the High Priestess for increasing his senses so far. He could hear every wet squelch and swore he could hear tearing. He saw tear-stained cheeks and her snotty nose in high definition as she made small hiccups and begged him to stop. Shiro glanced down at the head concubine, who merely stood in place with a stoic look upon her face. She'd probably seen it all before, and judging by the one on the bed, at Shiro's guess, she was very new, or Zarkon was breaking her in. She looked between them both desperately, before her eyes widened and she writhed and screamed. With a grunt, Zarkon smacked her round the back of her head as he pulled out. She automatically curled into a small ball, quivering in a mess and muttering to herself incoherently.

 

“She will not do. Have her sent to the brothels. I care not which one.” Zarkon rolled her towards the edge of the bed. The head concubine moved over with a curt nod and grabbed her by the wrist.  
“Follow.”  
“H-How _could you watch?_ ” She yanked her wrist away, shaking eyes watching them. The concubine shrugged her shoulders.  
“This is your purpose now. Get used to it or die in the arena,” she pointed towards Shiro, “if you want to, he could probably snap that pretty neck of yours if the Emperor ordered it.” She tilted her head to Zarkon, who hummed in agreement.  
“Go. Before my patience runs thinner.”  
Shiro watched as she whipped her head between the two of them, before cracking another sob and pushing herself from the bed. She fell in a crumpled heap on the floor, tail curling around her stomach. The concubine was right; it was her purpose and screaming and crying would do her no favours. If Zarkon ordered it, he'd kill her with no hesitance for showing such disrespect to their master.  
“Do you need assistance?” He looked between the small concubine and then the Emperor.  
“No. She can walk. Get up, princess, the Emperor has better things to do then listen to you weep upon the floor.” She grabbed her wrist again and dragged her along. Shiro followed them both, watching the slave scrabble to her feet.

 

He returned his gaze to the Emperor quietly lounged upon the bed.  
“I thought you would react differently, Champion.”  
“No, Sire. I am learning now that as slaves we need to teach those who act out their place. It is bad behaviour, and it needs correcting.”  
“It does. Your answer pleases me, Champion. Come.” Zarkon beckoned him over and Shiro moved and settled in front of his Emperor. The air reeked of sex and from what he caught on the sheets, blood too. A clawed finger touched his lips, then traced slowly over his jaw and downwards until it reached his naval.

 

“Do you understand my decision?”  
“I'm not sure I understand, Sire.”  
“Regarding Sendak.”  
“I'm still not certain, Sire. Apologies, I'm...” Shiro studied the sheets, “too stupid.”  
“He was too eager to put you in your place,” Zarkon continued to just slowly trace his finger over the marks on his chest, “if he had purchased you himself, I would have no qualms with his actions. However, in his bid to please me, he drove you towards such a dishonourable death. It would not do for you to die by your own hand. I imagine this break will remind him of his place and that his actions have consequences.” The finger stopped over one of the burn marks.  
“It was my fault; I didn't believe him when he was being truthful. If I'd only behaved more, been a better slave to the Commander, it wouldn't have happened, Sire.”  
“Sendak is at fault. Recall you lack autonomy.”  
“Please forgive my negligence, Sire.” Shiro bowed his head, watching the hand pull away. The mattress shifted and he was pulled down into the Emperor's chest.  
“You lacked proper boundaries, but between Haggar and myself, you will learn them. I am told you assist her in the labs now when you are lucid.”  
“That's correct, Sire.”  
“She will be less inclined to be abrasive so long as you continue to respect her. Much like myself.” Zarkon pulled his face around, rubbing a claw against his jawline.

 

“Sire, may I ask a question?”  
“Proceed.”  
“Did you...heavily punish the Commander?” Shiro chewed his lip as he felt the claw pause.  
“He took what he gave you. If your master cannot take what punishment they inflict, they are a disgrace and weak so far as I am concerned.”  
“Like Ranveig, Sire?”  
“Yes. He was a disrespectful dreck and a cancer within High Command. It was a shame he caused so many problems,” the claw stroked slowly under Shiro's chin, and he couldn't help tilt his head back to allow his Emperor better access, “for he was effective in combat. Why do you ask, Champion?”  
“I'm worried, Sire, that the Commander may despise me.”  
“Sendak has a fondness for you that will not be easily shaken. He understands he is at fault. Do not concern yourself with such thoughts as you have things to learn that I will instruct you in.”  
“B-But I'm a slave, sire, why waste time upon-”  
“Silence, Champion.” Shiro bit his tongue and tensed, but the claw still stroked him gently.  
“Though dishonourable by our culture, what you have chosen to give up to serve us does not go unnoticed. You please me both in the arena and bedroom, and to be able to damage my old pupil; that has caught my interest.”

 

They stared at each other for a few ticks, before the hand shifted and the claw pressed against his lips. As obediently as ever, Shiro opened them and let the Emperor probe inside, still watching each other intently. Zarkon pushed himself up and settled in the pillows, motioning for Shiro to follow. He did, and was hoisted and leant against Zarkon's thighs. The finger re-entered his mouth while the Emperor's other hand rubbed careful lines and swirls against his cock, occasionally tugging the piercing. Shiro arched backwards, his groan muffled by the fingers in his mouth.

 

“You are a good boy,” Zarkon muttered as he languidly thrust the fingers, “and if you can complete a task for me, I will reward you with this.” He pointed to his erection. It had remained unfulfilled by the prisoner that had caught his eye, and as much as taking Champion had been his plan, it could wait. He responded well to structure and rewards, which was why for all intents and purposes he was a _kragna_ in Zarkon's mind. Champion cracked his eyes open, nodding slowly in agreement.  
“Your task will be to deliver a message for me to Commander Gnov. You will have two vargas to do this in, however,” Zarkon withdrew his hands to let them sit on the bed, damp from the pre-come and saliva, “your aim is to evade capture. The guards will punish and mark you as they see fit. For every mark you receive, you will receive a lash. If you are longer than two vargas, your body is forfeit to the Royal Guards on duty. If you can complete it by or before the limit, then I will have you in my quarters. On a final note, you will not use the ventilation system.” Zarkon smirked as he watched Champion's face drop, realising he couldn't just dodge around it. Sendak had given him that piece of information a while back, and he couldn't help find it amusing.  
“You will likely be sent to infiltrate something one quintant, and these skills you learn will be invaluable.”  
“T-Thank you, Sire.” Champion managed to mutter, bowing his head forward.

 

After winding Champion up some more, Zarkon rose. Like the good _kragna_ he was, Champion followed, until he came to a stop in front of a small desk.  
“This collar will track your location. It will shock you if you try to go places you should not. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, Sire.”  
“Your two vargas will start once you leave the royal quarters. This,” and Zarkon took a small cylindrical item from the desk, “contains the message I wish to relay.” He attached it to Champion's collar, flicking it in amusement.  
“I can confirm the guards will not try to take this. You may also defend yourself to evade capture, but you cannot kill them. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, Sire.” Champion gave him a small nod.  
“Finally, this device here,” he handed Shiro a small wrist display, “will give you a layout plan. Commander Gnov is on this floor, and it will be highlighted. You have ten dobosh's to plan a route, and then we will begin.” Zarkon moved to a chair and settled down, watching Champion carefully.  
“While it is rare we cannot scan for a layout, I wish to familiarise yourself with such technology now. Moving forward, you will have a greater understanding of what my people are capable of. I also wish to see what restraint you can exercise, as so much as I enjoy you in the arena, you would be dead on the battlefield from exhaustion or reckless abandon in your slaughter. This will not do.”  
“It's also a way to test my ability in strategic planning, right, Sire?”  
Zarkon hummed in agreement, watching as he tied the display to his wrist.

 

Champion beamed at him as he pressed at the wrist display and brought up the map. He looked to Zarkon, who nodded his permission. He had reviewed Champion's file some time ago now, and noted that he had held rank of some sort. Why Sendak had not capitalised on that as much, he did not know. Then again, Champion had been difficult to break down, and Zarkon would be a fool to think that he was truly loyal yet. His resolve would be tested, especially towards the Empire. He may have shown some loyalty, but at this stage in reconditioning there was a possibility he could be swayed by outside factors. Particularly if the Marmora agents could somehow access him.

 

“Time is up. Brief me upon your route choice.”  
Shiro moved towards Zarkon and went to settle at his heel, but the Emperor patted his lap. He perched cautiously but let him pull Shiro close, slowly petting his skin as Shiro brought his wrist around.  
“Although it'd make more sense to take the shortest and most direct route, Sire, I feel that it would be disadvantageous in this instance.”  
“Explain.”  
“The chance of guards is higher. Even if I can get past some, I won't be able to slip past them all. The more I fight, the more time and energy I lose and the chance for being caught increases. In a straight line, I'm out-matched and out-classed.”  
“That is rather astute of you.” The Emperor petted his head and Shiro couldn't help the little soft purr he made in response.  
“So, Sire, I'm going to take this route,” he traced it for the Emperor, “because it offers better evasion prospects. I want to work to my strengths.”  
“You should.”  
“I'd prefer to take the fight head on, show them I don't fear them, but without full access to the arm I'm not strong enough.”  
“No. Tactically it makes sense. You are considering your strengths and weaknesses, much like how you fight in the arena I presume?”  
“Yes, Sire.”  
“This is why I enjoy your fights, Champion. You are bloodthirsty and cunning, yet your ability to assess situations and yield such outcomes is a surprise. I advise you do not let that compliment go to your head.”  
“I wouldn't dream of it, Sire,” Shiro bowed his head to his Emperor in gratitude, “thank you for showing me such kindness.”

 

Zarkon pushed Champion from his lap and took a robe from the bed, before walking him to the door. It would do good for them to capitalise on his skills; it seemed Champion was capable of more than what Zarkon expected. Though he could have picked a better route, his rationale was not based in nonsense, and that was better then what tripe he'd heard from the mouths of his own commanders at times. Champion was young and still easily trainable, they had so much time to work with him providing he didn't die. If he did, then he would authorise cloning. Haggar's experiments were too costly at times, and until they had the Komar up and running, it could wait.

 

“Alert me when he leaves the royal quarters.”  
“Yes, Sire.” The guard bowed to him, and Zarkon gave Champion a final glance over.  
“Your two vargas will begin once you have left the quarters. After that you are fair game.”  
“Yes, Sire. I will do my best not to disappoint you. Thank you for this opportunity.” Champion bowed his head again as he should, and with that Zarkon pushed him towards the guard.

 

-

 

“Emperor. I gather he has left?”  
“Yes. I have given him two vargas.”  
“That is...quite some time.” Gnov leaned back in her seat, glancing at the time on the display. It only took half a varga to get here. Zarkon's rich chuckle told her that her guess was correct.  
“I expect him not to meet the time requirement on the first try.” Zarkon replied.  
“So you would have him come crawling into my offices filthy?”  
“He should be plugged up. Alert me if not.”  
“I will, and will bill all the guards on shift if I have to for cleaning costs.” They both shared a laugh and Gnov sighed.  
“Let me know when he reaches you.”  
“I will. Any hint about the message?”  
“No, but I believe you may find it amusing.” Gnov cocked an eyebrow, recalling the last amusing thing Zarkon had sent her. He'd been confusing the Royal Guard with orders. She'd admit she found the newer officers reactions hilarious.  
“Then I look forward to your message.”  
“We shall speak in due course.” She set the communicator down and glanced up at the ceiling.

 

Sendak would be heavily unimpressed with how his little pet was being treated. She glanced down at the communicator. She could give him an update, like she had a few quintants' ago after his request, but she'd rather wait for him to ask again. Rocking the cruiser wasn't her goal any more, especially after the failed attempt on Champion's life all those phoebs' ago failed. They had misjudged the medical officer heavily, and she couldn't understand where his skills came from, especially after reviewing his file. She tapped her claws against the desk, before shrugging her shoulders. She was past these petty feelings now.

 

-

 

With a sharp uppercut, the second guard's head snapped up as she stumbled backwards.  
“What _is_ that hand made of-”  
Shiro punched her straight in the gut and let the body drop. The pair had given chase, but as he suspected, taking corners slowed them down. Grabbing the pair of handcuffs, he cuffed her wrist to the other guards' ankle. It'd slow them down for now. It was harder to be restrained as the adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he so desperately wanted to fight them like normal.

 

His ears pricked at footsteps, and Shiro quickly moved from the pair. He pressed his hand against a panel, straining his ears as the noise grew louder. The door opened, and he hurried inside. _You have got to be fucking kidding me._ As the door slid shut behind him, he was met by the curious glances of six officers sat in what was effectively a break room. One was apparently half way through his lunch. They stared at each other for ticks until it seemingly clocked. _Shit._

 

“Anyone know why Champion's naked in the break room?”  
“Don't you _listen_? Commander Gnov told us he'd be out training today.”  
“Isn't he already trained in taking dick though?”  
“You can't _say_ that, Hek.”  
“Literally just did,” Hek rose from his chair and moved over towards Shiro, “so little Champion, get ready to bend over cause it's punishment time-” Shiro clocked him straight in the face with a snarl. Hek stumbled away, clutching his nose.  
“That _fucking hurt!_ ”  
“By the way, Hek, he's allowed to fight back.” Shiro glanced at the woman sat toying with some kest in her claws, offering Shiro a grin, “I'm not getting involved. I'd prefer to watch, honestly. Besides, Vron there's been desperate to see me naked since we started and I'm not giving him that satisfaction.” Shiro snorted as he turned his attention back to the other four. Five, as Hek rose from the floor, blood dripping down his face.

 

“Lads stay back, Champion's _mine_ first!”  
“I haven't got time to waste with you!” Shiro levelled as he launched forward. Hek came in, grabbing his human hand with a smirk. Shiro raised an eyebrow as he punched him in the gut. The hold released and Shiro grabbed at the under suit. The dreck had removed his armour. With a growl, he flung Hek over his shoulder onto the floor with a crash. He turned his attention to the whistles behind him, finding the four other guards had dispersed.

 

“Look, Champion, it'll just be easier if you let us fuck you, then you can leave-” The officer only just dodged Shiro, who stumbled forwards so not to fall over. Arms gripped him from behind and a heavy weight pressed him down towards the ground. He pushed back as best he could, feet scrabbling against the metal floor desperately as he wrestled himself backwards, teeth clenched tightly together. He would not yield. After that one prison guard that kept fucking him in the bathroom, he wasn't in the mood for this.  
“Vron, go grab his legs. This is painful to watch.” The woman called from behind.  
“Fine. Hek, go man the door and give us some privacy. Champion kicked your ass so you're out.”  
“Fuck sake.” Shiro grunted as the largest guard – about Haxus's height – came over and hoisted him up by the knees.  
“I mean I'm not into guys but it ain't bad.” Vron muttered, and with a nod of his head, Shiro was moved backwards. He writhed and wiggled, but the arms were strong. _Stop wasting energy. You have to fuck them_.

 

Placed on the table, Shiro tried to wiggle free from the iron grip of the officers.  
“He's a real wiggler.”  
“I think it's hilarious.”  
“Would you just fuck me!” Shiro growled, baring his fangs. He received whistles in response. Someone ruffled his hair.  
“Gods, I didn't realise how much of a whore he really is.”  
“Well he did do the porn.”  
“Some of that was gross as fuck.”  
Shiro growled again, slamming his head against the table. If it could just end, that'd be great.  
“Hey, Champion? Did you seriously enjoy getting fucked by a yupper?” Vron peered down at him as he hoisted his leg up. Shiro snorted loudly as he glowered at the officer.  
“It was punishment for biting the patrons.”  
“But did you enjoy it?”  
“No, I fucking _didn't_!” Shiro spat, breath catching as Vron pushed himself in. “You think I'd actively want to be fucked by some animal?”  
“I dunno. You fight like one.” Vron shrugged as he groaned, “gods, you could fit another dick in here.”  
“Then please, do.” Shiro rolled his hips back into Vron, gaze defiant, “I might actually feel something.” The comment was met with hoots of laughter, and Vron merely offered a lazy smirk down at him. Goading, it seemed, wouldn't work.

 

Soon enough Shiro was lifted from the table. Vron settled on the floor, and Shiro was pushed forward into him, taking in a lungful of some spicy-smelling scent as a second cock pushed its way inside him, the length barbed like Ulaz's. His flesh hand was grabbed and placed against a stiff and hot cock, while one was pushed against his lips. The owner, a small Galran, offered a smile down at him as he played with his communicator.  
“My comrade fucked you in Ragnar. He's a gross fuck and filmed it, see?” He held his communicator in front of Shiro's face as he dug claws into his hair, slowly thrusting into his mouth.

 

Shiro absently watched it, eyes falling heavy as small groans escaped his lips around the cock that slide nicely in his mouth. It felt nice, aside from the dull pain in his ass, with feeling full again. It was weird, like his body didn't really register the prison guards cock at all. It wasn't like it was anything special. Then again, he always felt good when he woke up, which was weird in of itself. Someone tapped his shoulder, and he glanced at the other guard who's cock he was wanking off. He looked expectedly at Shiro, who pulled himself away and took the one he was sucking in his prosthetic. The quicker they came, the sooner he could leave.

 

It didn't take long for the two in his ass to finish up. They growled out their shared orgasm. He felt flooded, and as he was about to moan out, the cock in his mouth flared against his teeth. Hot liquid squirted down his unprepared throat, and as he coughed, the two inside him groaned in unison, claws gripping his body tightly. _Just one left_. He licked the one in his mouth clean, and his head was swiftly pulled back towards the other guard. He was still playing the video, Shiro catching himself in it riding some random. His body was stained pinkish-white from all the come, but gods, was he desperately riding that Galran. He came back to reality when the guard's cock flared in his mouth, and he yanked himself out. The communicator fell to the floor and Shiro's head was lifted as the guard pumped his cock, hot liquid spilling over his face. He dragged it across Shiro's lips, wiping the head against the skin.  
“He's...a fucking good slave.”  
“Fucking good ass as well,” Vron muttered. They agreed around him, Shiro slumping against the officer.

 

“Has anyone got the plug?”  
“Yeah. You guys are bovas-minded drecks, so I knew you'd lose them.” The woman wandered over, shooing the second Galra buried in Shiro away. Carefully, Vron eased out and Shiro felt the plug pushed in straight after. “I got the body marker too.” She added, and Shiro hissed as claws grabbed his hips. He felt something press just above his ass, then down.  
“I like your little tattoo there, Champion.” She chuckled, petting where Sendak's clan mark sat at the base of his spine.  
“I wear it with pride.”  
“I'm sure you do. He'd be good mate material; you're really lucky.” She purred in his ear as he felt another line added to his skin. It was like a tally.  
“All done.” She tapped his ass and Shiro pushed himself away, moving towards the door. He ignored the calls of farewell, the come smeared over his face, and the plug that felt awkward as he moved. It was going to slow him down, and he couldn't afford leaving come trails to be found if they didn't track him by scent.

 

As he jogged away from the break room, he pushed himself into a small alcove. He tapped the wrist display and swore under his breath. He'd lost a varga so far, and he wasn't even half way there yet. He loosened a growl from his throat, checking the plans again. He could feel the frustration bubble; he'd disappointed the Emperor, and had been looking _forward_ to taking him again. Now he had to contend with lashes. He just couldn't be late.

 

-

 

“Do we need to leave him cuffed?”  
“Nah, Commander Gnov said we can't.” The woman looked down at him, sighing. They'd had to drug Champion to fuck him. The rumours were true; Champion couldn't get it up for female Galra, and he was even worse at giving oral sober. It was an alright fuck once he was drugged, but for solidarities sake, they had to let their female comrades know.  
“Gimme the marker and hold him still.” She bent down and scrawled over his chest, before rolling the Champion onto his side to add to the tally.  
“Oh, we're his ninth and tenth guards!”  
“Maybe that's why he's shit?”  
“Maybe.” They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. It seemed that a few of their comrades had scribbled notes over Champion's body. Some dreck had scrawled 'yupper cockwarmer' on his ass, and it was just in poor taste. Slave or not, kink-shaming was wrong: who were they to even say his species didn't mate with animals normally?

 

-

 

His stomach hurt and the taste of come and vaginal juices made Shiro feel sick. That, or the knowledge that unless he could get to his destination that was fifteen doboshs' away in seven doboshs', he was getting lashed and fucked even more. His skin was caked in a mix of sweat, Galran bodily fluids, and a bit of his own blood when one guard punched him back. He pressed his back against the wall and checked the map again. Yeah, he wasn't getting there in time. He sighed, scrubbing at his eyes. The guards that'd drugged him had thrown him off, and trying to ignore all the heat pooled in his gut was a pain, along with cramping when he tried to run.

 

Metal clanking caught his attention. He strained his ears harder, trying to pinpoint the distant sound. Frowning, he tilted his head left and right. _The left_. He couldn't detect any talking, so the only guess was that there were sentries up here. That...was at least promising since they didn't have dicks to fuck him with. Just whether he could outrun them was another matter in this condition. He crept alongside the wall away from the sound, that started to become more distant. Going this way would take more time, but he was already hitting the time penalty, so it didn't matter if he took longer. If the message was time-sensitive, the Emperor would have told him.

 

He peeked around the corner, watching the pair of sentries turn further up. Good. He rechecked the map. He'd need to follow them, but providing they didn't make a u-turn, he should be safe. Shiro hurried down the corridor as fast as his body would allow, wincing at the pain that stirred every time he moved. Moving made his body warmer, which in turn made him wish he could shed his skin as it sweat all over again. He hoped that they'd let him clean himself before the other guards had him later. When Zarkon would lash him, he had no idea.

 

Shiro pressed himself against the wall, holding his breath. He'd almost ran in front of two sentries. He watched wide-eyed from the depression as the pair turned away from him. Curiously, he studied them. Their feet hit the floor in tandem, which would explain the loud clanking he could pick up if he paid attention.  
Clank.  
Clank.  
Clank.  
He counted the ticks. It seemed they were possibly preset with routes, but he'd have to dig for that information or try again another quintant. He was so used to guards compared to sentries, so how they worked he didn't fully know. As Shiro moved from his spot once they were out of sight, he was suspecting this was going to be common with the Emperor for a while.

 

-

 

“Commander Gnov, Champion has arrived.”  
Gnov glanced up at her lieutenant before checking the display.  
“He is late.”  
“Yes, he also comes in a state.”  
“Define 'state'.” She leaned forward, resting her head against her hands. Her lieutenant shifted on her feet awkwardly.  
“The guards have scribbled over him, Commander.”  
“I see. Send him in, let me assess him.” Her lieutenant bowed and quickly left, and a few doboshs' later, Champion was escorted in. He stood to attention, albeit like he was in discomfort. Gnov flicked her wrist and watched her lieutenant leave again, before rising from her chair.

 

With disinclination, she circled the body, occasionally giving pause to read the words scrawled against the skin. Some of the ink was smudged. Eventually she came to a stop in front of him, tilting Champion's head up to the light.  
“Keep your head raised.” She unclipped the small container and placed it on the desk behind her, before returning to her perusal.  
“'You come to my office, an advisor to the Emperor, half a varga late smelling and looking like a common whore, Champion. 'Yupper cockwarmer', 'drug me for a pussy-fuck', 'big enough for two', and 'the Empire's resident cumdumpster'; are these fair assessments of your worth? Has the Emperor, the High Priestess, and Commander Sendak invested so much in to you for this,” she motioned at him, “to be what the common castes see you as? Did you even try?”  
“I-I made...critical mistakes. The comments, they're,” Champion swallowed as he looked away, “true. It's my place, though, Commander. I'm Empire property-” she punched Champion square in the gut, tired of such rambling and mewling.

 

“Do you think Commander Sendak would be pleased at such a performance? That you allowed yourself to make such critical mistakes? Do you _insult_ the trust he has placed on you in the past? The adamant resolve he could better you by _personally_ training and caring for you? The confession of his fondness that you seem to have so vagrantly ignored, yet allowed yourself to be fucked and scribbled on?” Gnov sneered as she advanced upon Champion, backing him up into the wall.  
“By your lack of words, are you suggesting that I be _pleased_ I backed off trying to reclaim my ex-mate? That I should accept a lowly creature like yourself holds his affections, when it accepts such debasing comments and opinions as fact? Where's your spine, Champion? Where is that fight to succeed and surpass these preconceptions that your only use is that of a fuck toy with a pulse? Where is, at minimum, your self-respect?” She snarled down at him. If mentioning Sendak didn't draw a response from him, she didn't know what would at this point. Slave or not, he was still a weapon-in-the-making, and his standards had to rise if others were to take him seriously. She knew Sendak would be displeased if the only thing Champion could be recalled for was pornography and Central Command's most popular receptacle. _Rise to it, rise to it you terribly turbulent creature_.

 

“I _fucking tried,_ ” Champion bit out, apparently finding some of his spine, “but forgive me, Commander Gnov, that I made the call at a varga and three-quarters that I wasn't getting here on time. Forgive me that I thought to stealth the rest of my way here when I realised that sentries were the remaining guards on this side of Central. I even think they may have preset route patterns. I wouldn't have learned that if I ran here, doing the opposite of what the Emperor had instructed. And please, forgive me that I am unable to mask my scent from the Galra, because trust me,” he gave her a more defiant look, “it would have helped considerably. I can't help being tracked like an animal, and even with strengthening, I have to keep a check on how I attack. I've been ordered not to kill.”  
“The Galra can take more damage then you believe from the arena.”  
“I can't afford to make any mistakes, Commander!” Champion shifted on his feet, wincing, “because I've already hurt and insulted Commander Sendak through my actions and choices. I don't need a reminder of my mistakes, because they sit in here as a constant reminder.” He held his hand against his chest.  
“I have so many things to learn right now, and know I will receive my dues when I'm returned to the Emperor. I will take his punishments, just like I did for when I was caught by the guards. Like I'm _supposed_ to.”  
“Did you at least fight until you were incapacitated?”  
“Yes.” Champion growled, teeth bared.  
“Very well. I will notify the Emperor. For now, go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. You may remove the plug.” She ushered him out of the room and returned to her desk. Through the sex scents, she could pick up the anxiety mixed with the aggression. So long as that aggression remained and was nurtured into something of use, and nothing bratty or petulant, it would help him in dealing with officers in the future.

 

-

 

Shiro returned to the office to find a chair pulled up opposite the desk. A glass of water sat there, and a small bowl pushed next to it. Reluctantly Shiro glanced at the chair, then the food. It seemed to be very small pastry-looking things.  
“That is for you. The drugs you were given was not authorised for this test. The scribbles also were bad practice.” Gnov didn't look at him as he sat tentatively down.  
“All guards on duty will be punished for defacing Empire property.” Gnov took a tiny pastry in her claws.  
“Thank you, Commander,” Shiro bowed his head, crossing his arm over his chest. She hummed in response as she tapped her claws against the desk.

 

“He underwent the same type of test as you did.”  
“Huh?”  
“Sendak. Gods, it was forever ago.” She inclined her head towards him, “I also caught him. He wore more than you, but not by much.”  
“So...” Shiro chewed his lip. After their earlier shouting match, he didn't want to say it out loud.  
“It was our first taste of each other, to put it politely. There had already been flirting – he was quite cocky, I recall – but had the clout to back it up.”  
“You pinned him?”  
“He hasn't always been built like that,” Gnov loosened a soft purr, tilting her head back to the ceiling as if remembering, “but he wasn't always that repressed either.”  
Shiro was somewhat confused by the shift – like since returning she had been replaced by a nicer Galra who just wore her skin. Maybe he was hallucinating? It was making no sense.  
“He was always so eager to please: his comrades in arms, superior officers, the Emperor. Me, at one point. Eventually that eroded with time, battles and losses.”  
“He told me, about one. The arm.”  
“Did he?” Gnov actually looked at him, blinking slowly. A bittersweet look flashed briefly across her face.

 

“Then he really has become quite fond of you. I will be honest, Champion, for phoebs' your existence has frustrated and infuriated me. For the last seventy deca-phoebs, I've been trying to initiate something with him again. My advances, however, have not been as reciprocated. Occasional moments of comfort have occurred, but it is no longer the same as it once was. He has moved on with not only that _lieutenant_ of his, and now you.”  
“Is this a pre-warning? That if I hurt him you're going to make me suffer?”  
“You have had the threat before? Haxus, I presume?” Shiro nodded his response and she exhaled sharply.  
“A threat on my part would be over-reaching at this point, so no. You can relax, Champion, I have little interest in harming you unless you truly stepped out of line.” She plucked another pastry from the bowl.

 

“What has he told you about our son?”  
“Not...a lot. He said how it happened, that he really liked the stories about Kuron and you both would read to him frequently. He had a really old storybook and cleaned out one of the rooms in the right wing ages ago.” He watched Gnov look back at the screen, and they sat in silence for a few doboshs. Whatever he said must be significant for her to remain quiet for this long. Sendak was good at these silences too.

 

“Vragnar. His name was Vragnar. A stubborn boy like both of us, if you would believe.” She swiped her fingers at the monitor in front of her as she spoke. “He held a fire as bright as the sacred flame at his core to do what was right for the Empire, and a will made of the purest luxite to accomplish whatever he set himself to. He was our greatest treasure but biggest weakness, and one that Kolivan used against Sendak. The Blade of Marmora may toss the lives of their own agents away, but it _infuriates_ me with how they used the weblum. It's what you should expect from half-breeds, Champion, and the Blade of Marmora is rifle with the filth.” Her lips twitched, as if to snarl, but she held it in.

 

“Unlike pure-bloods, half-breeds do not carry full Galran abilities, such as considerable intelligence and strength. The blood dirties deca-phoebs of pure warrior bloodlines. They feel they are exempt from such duties of serving the Empire, and reject their heritage with disdain. It is why we sterilise them, so they cannot create any lesser-blooded Galra. Very few half-breeds; the Prince included, have any notable worth. Those though, are not usually colony scum or slave children.” She rested her face on the backs of her hands. “What experience have you had with half-breeds?”  
“They'll seem to do anything for protection. They beg a lot. Effectively sent to brothels?”  
“Correct. I would not piss on one if it was burning to death.” She watched him nod his head in agreement as he took a pastry.

 

“Permission to speak freely?”  
“Granted.”  
“Why have you...told me about the Commander? I don't understand.”  
“Sendak is bovas-headed when it comes to admitting or talking about anything to do with Vragnar or his past. The problem is, is that he still lives in it. His fondness for you _possibly_ is showing a change that has not been noted in him for so long it has caused concerns and comments. Though my pride and dignity may be hurt that he would look to give you such marks,” she pointed at his neck, “and your standing is so low, I am at least,” she clicked her tongue, looking away, “ _pleased_ he's able to become fond of something, even if it is a pet.”  
“Thank you.” Shiro replied, glancing at the water. It'd been informative, and somewhat back-handed, but he'd take it as a compliment. He was always trying to be a good boy for the Commander, and maybe once it was all over, they could talk about things. He could apologise again, hope he wasn't going to disown or abandon Shiro. Even if he was Empire property, Sendak was still his master, his Commander, and he had sworn himself to him, even if Sendak was a dreck at times. He twisted his head at the knock on the door, and he watched as a pair of the Emperors' guards walked in.  
“It's time to accept my punishment. Thank you for your time, Commander Gnov.” He bowed and saluted her, and let the guards escort him away.

 

-

 

His skin had been scrubbed red-raw in places where the marker didn't come off. Zarkon had expressed his disappointment but Shiro would feel that later. For now, his body hung in chains from the ceiling. His arms were tightly bound behind his back, and the metal cut into his skin. They'd tied some around his chest in a way similar to shibari; just this felt oppressively restrictive. His legs were held apart by a spreader bar and at present, someone was fucking his ass like a jack-hammer. The collar restricted his movement, so he didn't know which one it was any more. He'd lost count a while ago.

 

It turned out there were quite a few guards on the shift; more than he was expecting. The door would open and close every so often. Someone might force their cock down his throat. One Galran woman made him eat her out. That was disgusting. He was certain that the ones that fucked his ass – with no rhythm and sharper claws, must have been female too, because their job was piss-poor at best. It beat not being filled with more come, though enough of was probably on the floor by this point.

 

The chains were relaxed and his body lowered to the ground. Well, his face. Someone lifted him up, and he met the bright eyes of a guard who smiled cheerfully up at him.  
“We're gonna share you.”  
“Sure.” Shiro offered a nod as he felt them both work their way in. His voice pitched and he tried to push himself back against them. The two Galra laughed and took up a gentle pace at first. Whispering they hoped he would keep making mistakes that made him late so they could do this again. Shiro would've responded, but someone shoved their dick in his mouth and grabbed the sides of his face. He managed a single moan before they fucked his throat with glee. He hoped the Emperor would at least be happy he took the punishment well, just like he was supposed to.

 

-

 

“Get up.”  
Zarkon narrowed his eyes at Champion as he pushed his naked form up, hands splayed out. Sweat and other secretions dripped down to the floor below. His ears twitched at the whispered words of quiet motivation as Champion moved on hands and knees towards him. He dropped down to his haunches and stared up at him, quietly awaiting his next punishment.  
“Do you know how many guards had you?”  
“I want to say fifteen, Sire.”  
“Eighteen. From your earlier failure, you will have twelve lashes. Do you understand?”  
“Yes. Twelve caught me earlier.” Champion kept his twitching gaze held with him, and Zarkon gave him a small nod. With a click of his claws, he turned and led Champion from the room. He did not need to be collared or leashed, even if he was slow.  
“We will discuss your failures in depth during your punishment.”  
“Yes, Sire.”

 

-

 

“To summarise: on your next attempt, you will more effectively divide and conquer, you will gather more intelligence prior and during your training, and you will aim to incapacitate hostile targets. Your assessment that sentries have preset routes is correct, however it would do you well not to bargain on it being the same every time. Do you understand, Champion?”  
“Y-Yes, S-Sire!” Shiro shouted out through the burning agony, vision faltering as the whip cut its final vicious red line through his skin. His body ached all over, sore from being strung up for so long. _At least it's not Keith._ No, at least he was safe. He let his head drop down, staring at the blood splatter all over the floor. _It's fine, we can take it. Augmentation's working_.

 

-

 

“Carry it to the cell, G8LT95.” Haggar watched the ex-Champion offer a small bow before moving to the tank. It hesitated again, before dragging the subject out. She was not impressed that Zarkon had let it come back so filthy; they could have at least hosed it down. She followed behind, always amused that even after being brought back, the ex-Champion still retained memories of disgust. There was so much about quintessence and its properties she did not know. She needed to arrange a trip shortly, take a few of the subjects to one of her other labs. After augmentation was finalised would probably be better.

 

As G8LT95 dumped the subject down, her eyes caught a few sparks over the reinforced plating that adorned its chest.  
“Go to the table.”  
It made a strange growl in its throat and done as ordered. She cast her gaze back at the subject, completely out cold on the floor. She would punish it – well it's friend – later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it's the pegging bit when he's presuming they have to be female I was a bit hmm on. On one hand I'm like, Shiro is not a sexist character but on the other hand, I can see it being a realistic response/thought process to what has happened. He spent ages refusing to do it, rightly, but he's had that taken away from him. I know it's just a thought process and I am probably over-thinking this (I am an over-thinker), but just wanted to clarify that if you do get that vibe, I'm sorry and generally not trying to suggest Shiro is sexist. He's still not sold on galra racism.
> 
> But yeah, starting 51 at the moment. Not sure yet where we're going but feeling we need some Keith pain, arena times, and I'm sure you guys miss Ulaz and Hepta. I miss Ulaz and Hepta.
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and I'll try make nice bits happen next chapter!


	51. Rejections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! Thank you for the comments and kudos my dears ^_^ glad to get back into this fic, I must say.
> 
> Pretty much take the tone of this chapter to be the same as the last one. Minus the rape/dub-con stuff but add implied childhood assault that isn't Shiro's since he had a lovely childhood cause he deserved it. Also theres more torture this chapter.
> 
> The start is going to read weird. It's a dream, and it's from the second person perspective. It was longer then I wanted but after that, that's it on dreamscapes for the chapter. I loved writing it though, cause I get to use some old skills I haven't in ages haha.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)

_You observe a man stood in a dark room lit by pale purple lights situated above doorless openings. There are many that lead off to paths unknown, but all converge at one point: here. Wherever 'here' was supposed to be, you do not know, like the man who stands there unmoving. His posture gives nothing away as to what type of person he is, and what expression could be seen is void. He is as bare as the day he was born._

 

_You can hear a child's laugh and the patter of small feet becomes louder. A smaller version of the man comes through one of the entrances. The laughter stops and you notice they clutch the model spaceship close to their chest. You watch the child blink and look around curiously. The boy skips with abandon from the safety of the entrance out to the man, who still does not move. You do not fear his presence around the young boy, but there is something that stirs within your gut that you can't quite place. Something between familiarity yet also foreign. It is a hard thought to quantify, and you are distracted as a slightly older child emerges. This one is dressed like they have attended a funeral. You don't know how you know this information, but you are completely certain that it is the truth. You understand these children to be the Curious Child and the Mourner._

 

_This boy looks and acts more cautiously, but they hold a curiosity and naivety that children possess. They move towards the young boy first and take his hand. The two share words, the little one pointing up at the man. You do not know what they are saying, because they make no noise. You can discern the young boy must have asked an innocent yet rude question, because the older seems to huff and yank his pointing hand away from the naked man, who still remains as statue-esque as when you became aware of this place._

 

_Slowly, more versions of the man filter in. One carries a heavy satchel. You understand he is the studious Student of the group. He looks slightly dishevelled, you know it is because he has so many aspirations he aims to meet. When one in an orange uniform appears, this is confirmed as the Curious Child, the Mourner, and the Student rush over to him. They almost topple him over. You feel their jubilant feelings and watch how quickly their mouths move in silent conversation. A warm feeling courses through you. The Curious Child tugs at his sleeve and strokes the fabric. He gives the model spaceship to the Cadet with the biggest grin on his face. The Mourner manages a soft smile, and you feel his solemness come and go._

 

_You don't know who arrives first between the Graduate and the Patient. The emotions are mixed. The Curious Child is unsure. The Mourner doesn't know whether to pull inwards or go to the Patient. The Graduate stands staunchly next to the Patient. You can hear his resolve ring strong and true in your consciousness; this illness will not stop me, it will not define who I am. You can feel the bitterness he hides within himself for a moment, before a strange feeling of affirmation he gives to the Student who awkwardly approaches him. The Curious Child asks another question, but no one answers him._

 

_The Pilot, the Lieutenant and the Mentor come. The Cadet gives the Curious Child back his model, and in turn he hands it to the Pilot. They share a moment. The Mentor takes the younger versions aside. You sense a calmness about him that soothes you. You believe the unknown words he speaks to be true. He steals glances at the Patient, and there is unease there that he doesn't want you to notice, but it lingers. The Lieutenant holds the same level of calmness, but a strong current of self-confidence, discipline, and state of acceptance that you can only envy. He walks around the man who has not moved, his brow creased in concern. He glances back at the others, but then towards the door as the two you call the Astronaut and the Prisoner come into view. The Prisoner follows behind, and again you experience a mix of emotions you cannot fully understand as the others surround him._

 

_The Lieutenant approaches first, but before they can open their mouths, another pair come together holding hands. This pair has the entire group on edge and the children are protected. This pair is the Murderer and the Violated. While the Violated remains quietly subdued, the Murderer is the opposite. He storms over to the Lieutenant and grabs his uniform, face tear-stricken and body prickling with rage and self-loathing. You think he is trying to seek some type of answer or justification for his actions. There is a sense that he did not want to do it for reasons you cannot process. You watch the Murderer crumble down the Lieutenant's body to the ground, clutching at the purple shirt he wears. You catch the Patient limping towards the Violated, concern marring his pained face. The Violated can't even look at him._

 

_The following arrivals scare the younger iterations. The Defiant is shackled to the Slave. The Murderer and Violated quickly join the pair in solidarity. The Defiant needs to be restrained. The Prisoner tries to subdue him, but the Defiant strikes him. You are overtaken by an anger that stems from self-loathing, pride, and the duty to protect, but what you want to protect seems so distant you cannot conceptualise it. That is when the Curious Child flees without his model. Then the next ones appear._

 

_The Whore and the Gladiator carry the Conflicted between them. They both have a weight of confidence about them that the Lieutenant doesn't like, and even the Murderer and Defiant are unsure. The Conflicted manages to stumble forward, looking between his younger selves and those similar to him. Like the other two, he has a metal arm, and you feel the trepidation within him as to what it entails owning such a thing. The Lieutenant, Patient, and Mentor seem to sense that this one needs assistance, and slowly move towards him. All but the Whore, the Gladiator, and the Defiant seem to be willing to comfort the Conflicted. You can sense their joint pride and disgust. The Conflicted is the first to outwardly reject the naked man in the middle of the room._

 

_There is upheaval between the groups. Alliances are made and then broken. The Cadet tries to pull away the Mourner and the Student, but they refuse. The Whore and the Gladiator share a united front. The Astronaut and Pilot quietly leave along with the Graduate. You can feel their acceptance that they are not needed here, and so they will return to the dark depths from whence they came. You cannot blame their for their choice, for you do not know what they can realistically do. The Slave drags the Defiant towards the Whore and the Gladiator and kneels at their feet for acceptance. They embrace this facet of themselves, but the Defiant lives up to his name. The Gladiator slams him to the ground and places a foot between his shoulder blades while the Defiant struggles._

 

_You can feel the desperation of the Murderer again wishing for salvation, but once again it is the Gladiator's pride that sways the Murderer to him. You can feel the fear resonate from the Mentor and the Lieutenant, and know that it lies with concern that these facsimiles will have too much sway here. They worry for their lives. The Murderer is embraced into the bosom of the Gladiator, and soon he dissolves away to nothingness. The Lieutenant tries to rally the troops while the Mentor tries to find some type of middle ground. The Conflicted cannot keep still, and you feel the inner turmoil of all of his plights crash over you like a wave. Then you are drowning in the decisions of the past, present and future._

 

_While suffocating under the weight of a man who has no clue what to do, you almost miss the others. You are dowsed in a sense of despair and misery that gnaws to the core of your soul, but to juxtapose this, you are then bathed in a sunny warmth where for the first time you can hear a song of praises. All you must do is behave and do as you're told. The Pleaser takes the hand of the Student and leads the teenager to the Slave and the Whore. They welcome him with open arms and hold him tightly, whispering words that has the Mentor trying to pull him away. He does not want the Student to be preyed upon, but the promise of learning and getting to excel digs into your mind. It is all quite appealing. You watch the Apathetic hang off the Mentor's shoulders and the despair creeps into you again. What does the Mentor have to offer any more?_

 

_The atmosphere takes a dramatic shift as the Gladiator and Lieutenant stop their stand-off. It stills and you can hear heavy footfalls. A flash of metal. The stench of blood and sweat. The Apathetic and the Pleaser stand either side of the entrance as the Champion emerges. They hold him, running their hands over the armour he wears. You can feel the loss he has felt, but also the sense of accomplishment for surviving. This one has a defined purpose. The Mourner approaches him with the Patient. The Champion points with his sword towards the entrances. He has ordered the Mourner to leave, for there is nothing left to grieve. You feel the Champion's acceptance that not only has Takashi Shirogane died, but so has most of his friends. The Mourner leaves, briefly touched by the Apathetic. You watch the Gladiator move towards the Champion and kneel. The Champion raises his sword and with a single slash, cuts him down. It's essence flows into the Champion, who then glances over the remaining iterations, before landing on the body in the middle of the room._

 

_More hope is lost when the Experiment runs through an entrance. The Patient and the Violated comfort each other, until the Patient cannot stand to remain. Another again – the Delusional – lurches into the room and there's something off – terribly off – about him. The others move away, but he ambles then runs towards them, head twitching with a twisted grin. There are too many bodies to keep track of, but the feelings that are primarily stemming from the abstract iterations of the man are worse. Like two hurricanes meeting, the violent shifts between feeling a deep disregard for everything you ever loved, cared about, or prided yourself in, meets those of the desperation to please and stave off conflict. The two merge and you can barely hold on, just like the Conflicted who splinters apart. Its essence is absorbed, and like a disease it spreads between the remaining men. More splintering and absorbing continues until the remaining men left are the Champion, the Lieutenant, the Mentor, the Slave, the Student, the Experiment, and the Defiant, who remains pinned to the ground but occasionally writhes in desperation. The Champion takes charge of the room, and forces the Lieutenant to kneel at his feet._

 

_You feel something distant. It is incomplete, but you can feel it somewhere. The flicker of something cruel. The men all look towards one of the doorways and share a look. For the first time the Champion looks like he fears something. They turn to you. They all turn to you._

 

“ _If the Weapon finds itself, we are all damned. That body,” the Champion motions, “will belong to him.”  
_ “ _I don't understand what you mean.” You reply.  
_ “ _The Weapon will destroy and absorb all of us, become dominant. We need to keep it out. You need to make a choice.”  
_ “ _Why do I have to?”  
_ “ _You're the Arbiter. You have the ultimate authority here.” Champion moves towards you with confidence in his movements.  
_ “ _Right now, we can mostly work together. We may struggle, but there's more facets of ourself left. The Weapon will destroy us so it has full control. Is that something you want?”  
_ _You pause as you look over the fragments of yourself that haven't abandoned you. Living like this is mentally taxing, and the promise of a version of you appearing and having full control sounds less stressful. It would just mean the further death of what makes you who you are. You open your mouth._

 

Shiro bolted up, clasping at his chest as he panted. _What the hell?_ He'd had weird dreams like this before, sure, but this felt way too close for comfort. What was so wrong with his head that it thought he was so fragmented like that? It couldn't just break down his being into little tropes or characters. He groaned as he closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. A headache was forming fast and he just hated his mind so much. _Just turn off, stop working, please._ Through the sharp throbbing pain, he scrubbed at his eyes. He needed comfort. Just something to touch and hold. Keith. He needed Keith.

 

He turned around from his position on the floor. Keith wasn't on the slab. A fresh anxiety washed over him as he whirled his head around, rising to his feet. _He can't hide in here, so where is he?_ Shiro moved over to the slab, pulling the thin blanket up aimlessly. He knew Keith couldn't be under it, that was impossible. His thoughts raced; _where could he be? Who had him? It must be the witch! But, I haven't done anything?_

 

“I checked your memories. I was expecting this, subject.”  
 _Oh gods, no._  
“The women caught you fairly, subject, and you chose to resist. Did you forget what I told you?”  
Shiro opened and closed his mouth, gripping the fabric tightly in his hands. He dared not turn around. He couldn't-  
“Come.”  
With hesitance he moved towards the door. She stood there with a pair of cuffs in her hand. With a flick of her unencumbered wrist, Shiro yelled out as purple-black energy from nowhere tore through his body. She cuffed his wrists together. The energy subsided, and on unsteady feet he stumbled after her.

 

After a few doboshs' he was ushered into a small room with a single chair and a window. She pushed him down and set the energy clamps in place around his ankles, torso, neck, and something pressed either side of his face like a pair of blinders. He couldn't move. His eyes felt like they were burning from the pain in his head, the anxiety starting to curdle the lack of anything bar come probably still sat in his stomach  
“Do not move.”  
“I won't, High Priestess.” _Not like I can anyway.  
_ He heard her leave and just stared, waiting. He could feel the sweat bead first from his brow. Then the small of his back. His chest constricted as the lights came to life. He saw Keith through the window. The metal of Shiro's chair felt like it got colder. He swallowed, tongue thick in his mouth as he stuttered out Keith's name.

 

“Speaking without my permission.”  
 _How did she-  
_ He saw her snap one of his fingers back. Keith's face contorted in pain as he screamed. The witch was still scowling at him as he struggled in his bonds.  
Another snap and a scream. Keith bit down on his lip hard, because tears leaked from the corner of his eyes, as she raised her hand at him for making noise.  
“Know the subject caused this to happen to you,” she hissed at Keith, then looked back to Shiro, “you have long known that your desires and needs do not matter, yet you persist and will let harm befall this one for what, subject?”  
“I-I-”  
A snap. A scream. A slap. Ordered silence. Shiro's body trembled. _She struck his face, she struck him_. No, _you_ did that. If you hadn't been so selfish, none of this would've happened. _But I – we – didn't physically do it?!_ We may of well have at this point. His pain is on us. You're awful, disgusting, an awful friend.

 

“ _Speak_ , subject.” The witch hissed again as she pulled the fourth finger back. After would be his thumb. Keith was watching his finger, then Shiro. His looked, begged, him to just answer and Shiro _wanted_ to, but he couldn't, he...couldn't explain it properly to the witch who'd probably claim he made no sense. He couldn't tell Sendak, Ulaz, Hepta, and Zarkon everything, let alone _her_.  
“They're not...I'm not...I can't. I just _can't with them._ ”  
“You agreed to it therefore you can. You are irrational, subject. If I must wipe this fear-”  
“It isn't fear! I'm just not attracted to them! What the hell is this - wrong with you? You can't just 'fix' it! I'm not broken, I just can't just fuck women because _they aren't arousing to me_.”  
“It's not what _you_ find attractive or arousing, subject,” the witch's voice was a rasped whisper as she glared maliciously at him, “your release is irrelevant. You were caught, you are required to service them until they are done with you.”  
The snap of Keith's finger and his pained wail stabbed through Shiro's chest sharper than any blade from the arena, any lash from chained whips.

 

The witch moved out of view and Shiro _knew_ he shouldn't of snapped like that. His eyes flicked between Keith's tear-stricken ones and the space where he expected the witch to come back into view.  
“H-High-”  
“ **Silence**.”  
Shiro bit his tongue as she moved back into view, brandishing- _no. Oh fucking hell no._  
“Don't, plea-”  
He watched the scissor-pliers hybrid thing Kaleska used phoebs' ago cut through Keith's hand. He screeched. The sound of bone splintering and cracking dredged his own memories. He watched as Keith's eyes twitched and his body shuddered. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He was pale. So pale.

 

“I still need to punish him for yester-quintant as well.” The witch cackled as she moved around to take Keith's other hand, applying the damned thing to Keith's thumb. They both screamed out.

 

He couldn't remember if he'd had his medication yet. This...couldn't be real.

 

-

 

“I made you hallucinate,” the witch pointed to Keith's hands. His fingers were all attached and in splints now. His eye was still missing. Some cracked noise instead of words came from the back of Shiro's throat.  
“It was simply to make you learn. Have you?”  
Shiro merely nodded vigorously in response. He cautiously reached out, brushing his hand over the fingers. His headache was worse now. He felt sick and clammy. He hated feeling like this.  
“What have you learned, subject?”  
“I shouldn't speak out of turn.”  
“You know that already. What have you learned, subject?”  
“That,” Shiro swallowed and pushed down what scraps of dignity he had left, “my body is of use to anyone for any purpose irrespective of my own selfish wants.” He had to say it, even if he hated it and didn't believe it. It was easier to just agree to get her to drop it. He just had to stay out of the way of female guards next time.  
“Good boy. Now get yourself prepared, you are going to the arena shortly.”  
A chill ran down his spine. He never wanted to hear her call him a good boy again. She was ruining the words and meaning behind it. Shiro cast one last look over at Keith, before letting the witch usher him away.

 

-

 

He was killing his opponents quicker. Some fights were lasting less than a dobosh. This one, the last, was a bit longer since the opponent was able to put up a fight. Kaleska narrowed her eyes as Shiro missed, stumbling on his feet. She'd sensed something was up with Shiro, but now she was going to have to pry. His opponent caught the side of his cheek and she heard the roar and gasps ring round the arena. The other gladiators muttered around her, casting each other and her worried looks.  
“He'll be alrigh'.” She shifted on her feet, frowning at Shiro's furious expression on the screen when he realised the damage. The energy blade activated and he ran it through the prisoner's sword-arm. That was more in-keeping with his style, more so when he decapitated the head after Zarkon gave his approval.  
“Go ta the halls and getcha grub.” She ordered, and the others dispersed.

 

“A word, Shiro.”  
“Kay.” He didn't want to talk to her right now; he just wanted to eat and get his cheek sorted. The witch would probably do something to Keith because of that incident. It was his fault; he wasn't thinking straight. He just wanted to get back and see him, make sure he was okay as he could be. Shiro knew what this was like, he could help him cope. Keith didn't need to keep so closed off because he wasn't going to hurt him like the witch or that guard. He was so lost in his thoughts he walked into something solid. Kaleska looked down at him, worry marred her face. _I wish I could tell you, I really wish I could._

 

“ _You are only to speak of your augmentation and conditioning with the Emperor. If you speak of the boy, then unsavoury types will come for him and I will harm him. Your time assisting within the prison cannot be discussed either, as per policy. If you do, I will restrict your movements, such as time in the arena. You would hate that – no more stress relief, was it?”  
_ Evil. The witch was evil. Worse then Ranveig and Nadiva all rolled into one. Those words – she was pulling from his memory, purposefully getting to him for who knew what reasons. He was complying, he really was.

 

At least his headache was gone.  
The he remembered he didn't see the Commander there again. He must of upset him for rejecting him. Why was he such a dreck? He had to apologise, beg Sendak to forgive him again. He was a terrible slave for his master, even if he wasn't presently, especially when he did so much for Shiro. Truly, he was so lucky and he'd taken everything for-granted. He wanted to think of what he could do for Sendak when they saw each other again. Little sparks of joy shot through his body at the thought of his master's hands over his hips or grabbing his hair-

 

“ _Champion!_ Sto' ignorin' me!”  
“What?!” Shiro snapped, glaring up at her, before realising his tone. He lacked composure; that would lead to questions.  
“S-Shiro,” Kaleska leaned down, taking his shoulders in her hands tightly, “what's she doin' to ya?”  
“It's nothing. I just didn't sleep well again,” he glanced up at her, holding her gaze, “and I miss Sendak.”  
“Ya insul' me, Shiro,” he really hated seeing her give him that look, “what she got on ya?”  
“Everything. Just...don't ask questions, okay? I can't afford it.”  
“Who's she threatened?” Her hand gripped him tighter. Shiro opened his mouth to say Keith, but stopped himself short of it. He lifted his hands to her thick wrists.  
“No one you know. Just...drop it, Kal, _please_.” He pushed her hands away and heard her sigh sharply.

 

“Y'ain't been yaself. Talk ta me.”  
“When it's done, maybe. Just...not now. I'm sorry, Kal, I don't mean to take it out on you.”  
“C'mon. Get ya some decent shit ta eat.”  
“Shit probably tastes better then the goo they feed us.”  
“Probably, never tried personally,” she gave him a soft nudge in the arm, and Shiro pressed himself against hers.  
“Thank you.”

 

-

 

“He was not focused. What has he told you?”  
“I will try and find out when I see him next. How are _you_ handling everything?”  
“I request an update on his status.”  
“Commander, can you answer my question?”  
“I do not like your tone. You see me as weak?”  
“No, sir, I am just concerned since you and Shiro have been in each others presence for phoebs, and now you are not.” Ulaz pinched the bridge of his nose as Sendak remained silent.  
“I have no time for such distractions. He is a slave, Empire property.” _So he's not doing well.  
_ “I see. Well, by your leave.” The call ended abruptly. Ulaz exhaled sharply. He gave Hepta a curt nod as he brought two mugs in.

 

“Thank you.”  
“Is he pretending to give a shit?”  
“So much as it pains me, he does 'give a shit'.”  
“Just in a really fucked up way?” Hepta settled opposite Ulaz, his face crinkled in disdain at any mention of the Commander these quintants.  
“Yes, I suppose so.” Ulaz lifted the tea and blew, eyeing Hepta carefully. He'd been visiting, uninvited, frequently since he turned up on his doorstep. He'd inquired about what Hepta had said drunk about the Blade of Marmora, but that position had only strengthened. As far as Hepta knew, Ulaz was just as disenfranchised with the Empire now. That was how it needed to stay, because he was already walking a razor's edge.

 

There had been no call from Kolivan yet and it was starting to irritate him. Another message had been relayed from him to continue all missions and briefings as standard. Ulaz knew the rebels could be troublesome at times, but when they spoke what felt like an age ago now, there was issues there. He was becoming impatient, and that in turn was starting to upset Thace. They had become too comfortable, and with Ulaz set to return in due course, they would rarely if ever be able to meet up depending on where Ulaz was posted after all of this. He was hoping it'd be somewhere past the fringes; there were some nice quiet planets he could visit to slowly undo the damage he'd been through but especially Shiro, who continued to worry him considerably.

 

“So I've been doing more researching,” Hepta sifted through his bag and pulled out the collection of notepads he'd started to accumulate, “and seriously the more I dig the more lies I find. I want to expose the Empire, you know?”  
“That would be suicidal of you.” Ulaz took the offered book, another that would likely have more information he already knew inside, but it was always a curiosity to see how prospective members gathered information. Empire-issue electronics had all their searches logged, which he'd not had to explain to Hepta thankfully, and he'd told Ulaz he didn't trust potential hackers so he would write things down instead. With the climate on Central and the cycling PSA's about suspicious behaviour, news and tabloid articles, and the Galran social media blowing up with anti-Blade rhetoric and reams of Empire propaganda, it made Ulaz and Thace sicker being here. Ulaz was in half a mind to just take Thace with him.

 

“So I was researching the last time that anyone caught a Blade on Central, and it was like...forever ago. Thousands of deca-phoebs ago. The guy was called Hurgen, but get this? The Empire lied that they caught him and Zarkon personally executed him, but there's no logs at all? But, on the same quintant, there're photos of this random fighter jet smashing into the side of Zarkon's battle cruiser. Like why would you even lie about that? They claim it was a malfunctioning sentry!”  
“How strange. Why do you think they would lie?” Ulaz held his hands in his lap.  
“Are you asking for my theory?”  
“Yes, why do you think that? It could just be true, you know.”  
“It's _too_ coincidental! Also, explain the no logs!”  
“They could be kept sealed and secret. How do you know that you have the right information?”  
“Cause I do.”  
“How?”  
“Uh. I can't reveal my sources.” _Interesting.  
_ “Other Galra, or accessing via other means?”  
“Can't say!”  
“Ladnok?" Hepta's pupils flicked to the left and his lips twitched. _As the humans would say: 'bingo'.  
_ “Did you hack Commander Ladnok?”  
“Uh, no?”  
“I believe that's an 'uh, yes'.” Ulaz offered a smirk as he finished the dregs of his tea. “I will not say a word.”  
“How can you _tell_?” Hepta whined as he flopped back.  
“You make yourself too obvious.” Ulaz offered a playful smile as he peered at the notes. He was quite thorough in his note-taking.  
“Well I'm being casual. I should prove to you how not-shit I am at doing stuff.” He offered Ulaz a smile that had been quite rare as of late.

 

“How is home?”  
“Difficult.” Hepta's fists twitched.  
“Why?”  
“Cause I don't want the others to know or worry or get in trouble still.” Hepta shrugged his shoulders. “If I tell them, Laddy and Kaleska will explode and I can't have that happening.”  
“Has,” Ulaz licked his lips, “Sendak been in contact yet?”  
“No. I'd thank the gods if I could, but I know in my gut he's gonna make it messed up again. I still feel gross, Ulaz, like really gross about it all.”  
“He's at fault, not you.”  
“Oh, I know that. I had a dream though, maybe a nightmare, about doing it back? Does that make me bad?”  
“Dreams are just that, Hepta. But know that you are not the only one either who has such thoughts.”  
“Do you?” Hepta clutched his notebooks tighter.  
“At times I wish to gut him for what he has done.” _Too many times as of late._ They sat in silence for a few doboshs, Ulaz finding his mind flicking to Hurgen. That was a name he'd not heard for a long time.

 

-

 

The witch didn't say anything after checking his memories, so he must have been well-behaved by her standards. When he was allowed to speak after she'd fiddled with his senses again, he asked if he had taken his medication earlier. He couldn't remember. She assured him he had before taking him back to the cell. Keith was curled up on the slab. After she'd left, Shiro slowly approached. He didn't smell like blood – he'd been really thorough in cleaning himself up since he had company these quintants. Even though Keith knew about the arena, what he did, Shiro didn't _want_ him to smell the blood and gore he was often covered in after the fights. Right now, he was desperate to see how Keith was after earlier. He had to apologise.

 

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro started as softly as he could as he settled into the small of his back. Gods, he could feel another headache. Probably from the stress, maybe the medication. “I'm,” he sucked in a sharp breath, placing a hand carefully over Keith's shoulder lightly, “sorry about what happened earlier. I didn't think-”  
“No. You didn't think, did you?” _That was cold. Why was-_ “She broke all of my _fucking fingers and took my eye out,_ Shiro. Why?”  
“I...didn't behave to her standards. She said she'd take it out on you-”  
“Oh, so you're saying I'm only here to be a punching bag? Is that it? Oh, Keith took enough of it as a kid? You want to protect me, huh? You're doing a shit job so far!”  
“Keith!” Shiro's voice rose, but he quickly shoved down his own anger at how _wrong_ Keith was about all this, “I..didn't know she was going to go that extreme! I'm sorry, I know you've been through so much trauma but just...please, I didn't _know_.” He couldn't help but pull Keith up into a hug.

 

“I'm so _sorry_. I won't let it happen again, I won't. I promise.”  
“Just stop touching me, Shiro. I want to be left alone.” Shiro jerked away, heart feeling like it had been stabbed again. _This was what I was afraid of. He's rejecting me. I just wanted to help – why can't he see that_. It's Keith, just let him cool down, don't crowd him, just back away. I mean, it is our fault. _I just...fuck._ Shiro backed away from the slab and pushed himself into the corner of the room. He stole a glance at Keith, patch and all, glowering over at him.  
“Don't talk to me for the rest of the night. Just don't talk. I hate you right now. This is your fuckin' fault!”

 

Shiro wouldn't be sleeping, again. He glanced down at his wrist, head pounding, and bit the arm again. There was pain as he watched the tiny little red droplets blossom against his skin. _Reality_.

 

-

 

“He hates me.” Shiro stared out into space as he said it, sipping the tea. He'd taken Shiro as far away from the labs as he could – a change of scenery would be good for him, or so Ulaz was thinking.  
“He hates me and I can't blame him.”  
“I do not believe he hates you. Your reaction was completely reasonable for the situation, and I am sure he understands it. He is hurting in his own way, but he needs to communicate that to you with no uncertainty.” Ulaz nursed his own drink as he studied the man who couldn't seem to look at him. Sendak had always been a common discussion point in their sessions; more so since he was down in the labs. Over the last two sessions, Shiro had seemed in a better place, but his mood had dropped again.  
“I think he's communicated enough, Ulaz. I want him to understand, but he won't. I keep having the thoughts again. I want to hurt him, and you know it'd be so _easy_.”  
“Could you give me an example?”  
“I could smother him or snap his neck. It'd be easier with this,” he lifted the prosthetic with a snort, “stab him, burn him, rip him apart.”  
“What else comes with these thoughts? What do you feel?”  
“Excited at the thought, then scared because I know what will happen if I did. Anxiety usually that the witch will find out when she combs my memories. Depending on what it is, sometimes I feel sick with myself – like I _wouldn't_ do that and there's something wrong with me. That sort of thing. I guess this is good, right? Weaponisation must be working?”  
“How frequently are they?”  
“At this point a few times a quintant.”  
“What do you do? I recall you used to talk yourself through it and meditate.”  
“Ignore it and vent it out in the arena.” Shiro looked at him finally as he sipped the tea.

 

“He's been a distraction for me all quintant and yester-quintant, Ulaz,” Shiro pointed to the scabbed cut over his cheek, “and I'm angry at that because look what happened. I let some dreck think it had a chance.”  
“I was going to ask what had happened in the arena. You have been quite efficient.” The arrogance had been seeping through the cracks on occasions, but Ulaz's biggest concern right now was Shiro's coping mechanisms. They would break soon enough, and he was unsure whether Shiro realised that once he became a weapon, they'd retire him from the arena. As his biggest coping mechanism, he would lose that, and it was a topic that needed broaching sooner rather than later.  
“I wanted to go back.”  
“That is quite rare for you.”  
“I wasn't in the mood and thought I may as well show I can use restraint. I didn't really tear anyone to shreds this time.”  
“Why did you want to go back?”  
“I was hoping he might be there, just wasn't in the mood,” Shiro ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window again.

 

“She's finished upgrading my sight and hearing.”  
“How are you finding that?”  
“I can hear Central Command creak at the moment because we're so close to the outside. It's weird.”  
“The creak is an odd noise,” Ulaz offered him a small smile, but Shiro didn't seem to notice.  
“She's doing my pain receptors next. Not looking forward to that one at all. Sure that would work out worse in the long-run.”  
“I believe the theory is that now your skin and skeletal structure have been reinforced, keeping your human pain scale is pointless for your augmented body. It is...likely she will reduce it to be an equal equivalent or a tad less then your current one.”  
“Maybe. I dunno, just want it done.” He brought his hand up to his neck, rubbing the pale skin.

 

“Have you been taking your medication?”  
“Yeah the witch makes me every morning. I forgot that I did yester-quintant, and same again earlier. She scolds me. I've been a bit forgetful lately, but I haven't been sleeping well either. The floor is really uncomfy, but thoughts too-”  
“You are not sleeping on the slab?”  
“I can't.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I just can't,” Shiro's tone hardened before he caught himself, “it's as comfortable as the floor. Just the latter's colder. I've been getting headaches too – really strong ones that're right behind my eyes and over here,” he dragged his fingers across his forehead, “like I lost track of time.”  
“I believe it's been three movements.”  
“It feels longer, like six.”  
“No, about three movements. Shiro, have you been having any more hallucinations?” Ulaz finished his tea and rested his hands on the table, “because I may need to look at changing the dosage.”  
“Yeah. It was a weird one. I had one where I didn't have any hands.” As much as Shiro smelt of the labs, Ulaz noticed the shift in scent. He was lying about something.  
“Are you absolutely certain? If I increase the dosage and you don't need it, there may be detrimental affects to your health. I mean yes we can drop it-”  
“Why would I lie to you? I wouldn't do that,” Shiro straightened his back.  
“I did not say you were lying-”  
“No, but you're asking if I'm _certain_. I know myself, okay? I know it's all messed up in here and I'm still getting them. I mean it was just a one-off.”

 

“How did you respond?” Ulaz studied him carefully, his gut coiling and growing cold. _Haggar. Fucking Haggar._ Shiro's eye twitched as he glared out the window.  
“I don't want to talk about it.”  
“Then we can come back to it later or another quintant. Now, do you think you can explain that dream you mentioned earlier about to me, before we got onto this?”  
“Oh, that weird one?” He seemed to be coming down quickly from the defensive position of mere ticks ago.  
“Yes. It seemed you wanted to talk about that. Do you feel ready to?” He wanted to touch on a few other things with Shiro too, like the conditioning and strange sessions with Zarkon.  
“I think so, yeah. First, could we get another drink? Talking makes my throat dry. Sorry, too.” Shiro tentatively offered his hand out to brush Ulaz's fingers. “I think I've sounded like a dick.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say that your outlook can change how you perceive the world so much, that if you are negative, you live in a self-fulfilling prophecy of continuous bad things happening. He's taken a bit of a fall this chapter, but alas.
> 
> Next chapter I am defo spending time with the others. I don't plan on having much Shiro content, because we will catch up with Sendak, Ulaz and Thace, Hepta, and Kolivan and the rebels at a minimum. I may have some Haggar time and Zarkon may have a bit too, but not sure on these two yet. You will have some Ulaz back story coming up somewhat soon. The Hepta bit is going to be a bit oof.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and catch you soon!


	52. Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for the comments and kudos and just...thank you guys for 10k hits! Never thought I'd see it get this far!
> 
> Took a while because its another angsty chapter. We focus on the Galra over a period of a movement while Shiro has his pain receptors dulled because frankly, Shiro pain has been high and these guys need looking in on. Because we have Ulaz, Kolivan, Sendak, Hepta and Thace POVs, I'm using line breaks to help break it up for you guys. Stuff is finally getting explained as well, so there's that. Took a while to write due to needing to back-check stuff and research etc. 
> 
> As per, theres some porn this chapter. Sendak/Haxus and Hepta/some randoms. Actually consensual stuff. My god. You also get some empire worldbuilding and backstory. So please, enjoy!

Ulaz wondered what the point was when he sent the report to Zarkon. He didn't know if him and Haggar were conspiring to actively destroy everything that made Shiro himself out of spite or not at this point, and frankly he didn't want to ever find out the answer. He already had a feeling he knew it. He turned off the display and shut down the data pad. He didn't want to think about work – about anything.

 

Right now, the only thing he wanted to do was spend some time alone. Being everyone's support was starting to become too taxing and he wasn't following the advice he offered out like a hypocrite. Ulaz pulled the communicator over and typed in Thace's number. After a few rings, he picked up.

 

“I didn't expect to hear from you so early.”  
“I did not sleep so well. It seems that my neighbours wished to let the entire complex know they were mating.”  
“Oh gods not them again. You can go to mine, make the bed nice and warm.” They both shared a small laugh.  
“As much as that would be enjoyable, I think I will take some of my own advice. I just need a rest from others for a quintant or two.”  
“Good. You should be looking after yourself.”  
“I feel guilty-”  
“You shouldn't. Look, I know you can't help it, but no one is going to think less of you for having time out. They don't care otherwise. Now, as your _superior officer_ , I order you to go run yourself a bath, use that really nice scented stuff you keep, read one of your medical journals, and listen to that ambient music.”  
“Of course, _sir,_ ” Ulaz offered him a soft purr, “thank you. Come over tomorrow, I will make you dinner.”  
“I look forward to it, and you can tell me all about your quintant. Speak later.”  
“Yes, take care and have a good quintant yourself.” The call cut and Ulaz took a deep inhale. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

 

-

 

“ _Identify yourself.” The voice was too level for Ulaz's liking._  
“ _M-My name's Ulaz, Lieutenant! I-I'm from the settlement,” with a shaking hand he pointed through the trees in the direction of home._  
“ _Why are you out past curfew?” The muzzle of the blaster didn't shift from the back of his head._  
“ _I-I...wanted to see the encampment, sir. T-The cruiser-”_  
“ _Civilians are not permitted past the perimeter. Give me one reason why I shouldn't put a hole in the back of your head, traitor?” The Lieutenant sneered, pushing Ulaz by the shoulder down into the mud with his boot.  
_“ _I-I'm curious, sir! I've always wanted to see the soldiers – join the Empire! I'm old enough!” Ulaz carefully turned his head as his body shook, “I didn't ask to be born here to parents who're traitors.” He swallowed up at the Lieutenant whose pupils seemed paler then his own._

 

 _The muzzle withdrew._  
“ _Officer Hurgen, get the little fuck out of my sight. Can't be dealing with brats,” he moved back towards the camp before stopping, “if I catch you anywhere near this place again, we will gun you down, and Hurgen?”_  
“ _Yes, sir?”_  
“ _If the brat acts out, kill him. I don't want to hear you becoming familiar with the locals, again.”  
_“ _Yes, sir!” This Hurgen guy came over and pulled Ulaz from the mud, a large hand gripping his shoulder so tightly that any more pressure would break it. They waited for the Lieutenant to leave with the other soldiers, who jeered back at him, until they were out of sight and earshot._

 

“ _So how did they finally catch you, little one?”_  
“ _W-What? This is my first-”_  
“ _I patrol the woods. Your scent, I pick it up on occasions and it's the only way I know you've even been coming and going. Do you scout for the people in the settlement?” Ulaz was guided along the path as the soldier spoke. It was strange, new._  
“ _I slipped on one of the branches. Too over-confident. I won't make the same mistake twice.”  
_“ _I see. So you'll be back again, huh?” The soldier hummed quietly and left the conversation, something Ulaz was grateful for._

 

“ _So you wanted to know about the cruiser?” The soldier finally started again. Ulaz could see what that Lieutenant meant about being familiar with the locals._  
“ _Y-Yes. It's been the sixth this movement. They don't come that frequently.”_  
“ _We're changing cohorts, supplies, usual really. That Lieutenant? He's leaving in the morning, thankfully.”_  
“ _I read that cohorts have four-hundred-and-fifty soldiers. Is that true?”_  
“ _Yeah,” the soldier yawned, “well, sentries and drones, soldiers, some specialist roles.”_  
“ _There's not that many of us that live here. Why use a cohort?”  
_“ _Orders from our Sector Commander. I can't tell you those.” Ulaz's ears pricked to the softest of laughs behind him. This guy was weird, not like the other soldiers around here. The friendliness was a bit creepy._

 

 _They stalked quietly through the undergrowth until Ulaz came to a stop. Hurgen was just as quiet on his feet. It was probably why Ulaz never noticed him on his travels._  
“ _So which one do you live at?”  
_“ _It's dark, so it wouldn't matter which one I pointed at. Are you walking me back, because you really shouldn't.” Ulaz paused as one of the lights flicked on, and his gut twisted. If his father was up. He broke off into a run, leaving the soldier behind. If he was caught, he'd be begging for Lilja's forgiveness for a phoeb._

 

Since Hepta had mentioned Hurgen's name, old memories were resurfacing about a life he would rather forget. He let himself sink further under the water. He'd thought he got away with it until he clambered back in through his window to find his father stood waiting in the doorway holding his journal. Ulaz remembered being forced to hear his private thoughts aired in front of his mother and older brother. His father threatened to take him to the temple in the morning, threatened him with the Voices, with if he wasn't honest then everyone else would need to be punished too for his behaviour. Or they could keep it private. The latter was always the better choice. That night he wound up passed out from the lashing as he begged for forgiveness from Lilja.

 

He pulled himself out of the water, running his claws through the wet hair over his crest. Over the next two movements, he kept running in to Hurgen. He truly had been a strange soldier, especially when they found him one quintant leading the bovas through the middle of town. The other soldiers that would lurk about in the settlement to 'keep order' disliked him helping. Most of the townsfolk felt the same way, and it made stand-offs frequent. Ulaz kept away from the majority of that, hiding out in the temple or in the forest with his books, trying to learn as much as he could so when he escaped the place he wasn't completely sheltered. It hadn't prepared him for everything, but he was grateful to his sister for urging him to read more than just the _zaaora_.

 

“ _You will never leave us for those murderous heathens like Saxa!” His brother grabbed his wrist, tugging him away from the path to the encampment. It had only been a movement since their sister ran off with a soldier she'd been sneaking out to see. It was worse when she got pregnant and the others found out._  
“ _It was justice for destroying Diabazaal!” Ulaz retorted._  
“ _Zarkon and Honerva allowed the destruction by playing with things greater then their understanding!”_  
“ _Then why didn't the other Paladins try and stop it? Why did they sit back and do nothing?”_  
“ _Don't talk about things you don't understand!”_  
“ _Stop defending a race of dead people when we have our own to deal with! Why do you even care? You weren't alive then either!” Ulaz snarled back, hackles rising and teeth bared. Within ticks, he was on the floor by the throat._  
“ _One quintant, Hlynur is going to get the best offering of blood,” his grip tightened and amethyst pupils flashed dangerously, “and you would make a great sacrifice if you keep this up. Even Lilja won't forgive you.”_  
“ _Saxa was right, you're just as messed up as dad.”_  
“ _You just don't believe enough.”  
_“ _This isn't very pacifistic, is it?” The grip tightened again._

 

He rubbed the towel against his arms. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he stayed. Death, admittedly, but if the Empire had never massacred his people on that little moon, perhaps he would've succumb to the extremism when all the fight was finally beaten out of him. Hurgen's means of extraction was not ideal in hindsight, considering his father had caught them together. Hurgen had defended him, warned his father against the imminent attack, but like always he never listened. The only real positive was suspicion never fell on Hurgen for bombing the encampment and battle cruisers. In the end, only fifty-seven soldiers survived that massacre on his home world. None of his people did.

 

Ulaz moved into the bedroom and flopped down on top of the sheets. So much as some cleaning would do him some good to refocus his mind, or even meditation, perhaps he could allow an overnight trip to the Mardak ring. It would be good to explore some of the forests and breathe fresher air then what was filtered through Central Command. He needed to take Thace there again some time, and Shiro would probably enjoy himself surrounded by such calmness. If the trees big enough to lay upon their branches were still there, perhaps they could have lunch in the treetops. If he could, he'd prefer to be planet-side with the two of them instead, away from everything here.

 

He glanced over at the two communicators sat atop the counter. Whatever was going on with Kolivan, Ulaz would be demanding a rationale from him as to why. The stress of waiting was becoming too much. This was more then just playing it safe.

“What _are_ you doing?”

 

* * *

 

“You finally answer. What's your status with the other faction?”  
“Well mornin' to you too. It's all been fine, got them on board. They ain't happy with you guys, but managed to convince them that _at least_ we out-number you.” Ozar replied stiffly. “I don't appreciate your tone, Kolivan.”  
“And I do not appreciate having to keep one of my operatives on perpetual stand-by with one of the Empire's new toys.”  
“Well can't you just call for the extraction?”  
“No. Their location makes it too dangerous.” He watched Ozar nod slowly, glancing away at something off-screen.  
“You know we need more supplies.” He muttered, looking back at Kolivan, “and now you brought the Red Lion, we gotta be extra-prepared as well.”  
“The Red Lion won't be staying on Krish'alla forever. Right now, it is safe here.” He folded his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes behind the mask as Ozar motioned off-screen again. He had warned him not to have others in the room when they spoke, unless it was his second-in-command.

 

“Is that your second?”  
“Yeah, course it is. You've been pretty damn clear about it. Anyway, we managed to secure a few new comrades along the way; ex-prisoners and all that. Guys from Solaris Alpha and Beta systems are lendin' us a paw, as they put it, and should be en route now. Krish'allan's holding up alright?”  
“Yes. They are coping well with increased activity, and have shown us all hospitality.”  
“Ship holding up?”  
“Slav and the engineers have been working continuously on it. Mostly down to Slav changing his mind.”  
“Wish that guy'd settle on something. Was he like this with your stuff?”  
“Worse, if you can believe that.”  
“Do I detect the hint of exasperation?” Ozar leaned in to the screen, grinning ear to ear.  
“No.”  
“Damn it, you're one serious guy. Should loosen up more, show some emotion. Stop bein' repressed.”  
“I would prefer we discuss work as opposed to my personal qualities, but will take it under consideration.” Kolivan tapped his claws against his forearm. He was _mindful_ of his tone already.

 

“Fine. So we got intel sayin' that the Galra are sending battle cruisers along the routes we attacked, and they're re-routing. You able to confirm?”  
“I can, however those re-routed vessels now have protection in the form of two fighter-carriers. Those ships are armed with a short-range ion cannon. Their shields are twenty-percent stronger than battle cruisers, and they gain more manoeuvrability. They can hold up fifty fighter craft on top of what the supply cruisers already carry. However, the fighter-carriers themselves have a blind spot, and their exteriors are thin once you get through the shields.”  
“You got route details and schematics?”  
“I will send the ones I have confirmed. I am awaiting clarity from my own intelligence.”  
“Gotta admit,” Ozar's face softened, “you guys are pretty damn thorough. You got many in reserve right now?”  
“One needs to be against Zarkon,” Kolivan shifted his stance, “and enough. Another has joined me.”  
“Half-Galra or pure-blood?”  
“Half.”  
“They'll at least get on alrigh' with the others then. I keep tryin' with my guys, but you know.”  
“I do,” he glanced at the time, “I have seen thousands of deca-phoebs of it.”

 

There was a silence that sat between them for a few moments. Although they discussed and put the issues regarding the deaths of Nadiva and his own behind them, their relationship was still strained because of his status as a pure-blood Galra, and for fair reason. Antok and Regris were more accepted, which at this point was most important to Kolivan considering their lives within the Empire.  
“Wanna say thanks. You know, for engagin' with us. We'd be dead if you guys hadn't started helpin'.”  
“We seek the same outcome, so it makes little sense to not assist each other.”  
“True, though you make it all sound so business-like. You need someone softer at times, you know? More empathic-sounding.”  
“Perhaps. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?”  
“Curious what exactly that toy the Empire has is supposed to be, but nah otherwise.” He started smoothing his beard absently.  
“The one my agent will bring?”  
“Yeah.”

 

Kolivan bit his lip. Stating it was the Champion would likely cause issues, however withholding information would cause more.  
“The arena's current Champion.” He watched Ozar lean back in his seat and rest his hands on the desk.  
“Well shit. He's gonna be with the witch, right?”  
“Yes. Present intelligence confirms this.If they turn up unscathed, I may issue he is sent elsewhere.”  
“Why waste a perfectly good Galra-trained killing machine?” Ozar narrowed his eyes at Kolivan. This was a question he was expecting sooner or later.  
“It depends on whether it is too broken.”  
“Whaddya mean?”  
“I won't know until he is here in person. Believe me, if he is a threat, I will personally neutralise him myself. The agent extracting him will also be assisting me.”  
“Good, cause otherwise it's gonna be open season on gunning him down. ”  
“Do not risk your people. My race created this mess, so we will clean it up. See it, perhaps, as an act of good will.”  
“Fine,” Ozar shrugged his shoulders, “you do your honour stuff, saves us hassle anyway. If you need a gun, we got plenty. Right, gotta shoot. Gotta transmission I need to see.”  
“Understood. See you in due course.” The transmission cut, and Kolivan let out a long sigh of relief.

 

He disengaged his mask and pulled the hood back, pinching the bridge of his nose. They needed these alliances badly, but he wasn't happy keeping his own people on standby or locked in placements. Although he had seven agents on Krish'alla for now, he could do with more. He could _always_ do with more. It was fine while it was quiet, but each quintant they never knew if the ships would come. Then there was Ulaz and Champion to contend with. Ulaz would be restless to move considering the updates he had received, but he couldn't execute the call _until_ they were off Central. Leading the entire fleet here would destroy them. They would have to swap ships a few times to avoid leaving an obvious pathway; a fighter wouldn't make it half-way to Krish'alla.

 

His ears pricked as the door opened behind him.  
“Zazir-deshi is free to see you, Kolivan-deshi.” The small Krish'allan offered him a bow of respect, and Kolivan bowed in return before moving towards her.  
“Has Zazir-deshi had chance to read my report?”  
“She has,” the Krish'allan craned her neck up to look at him, “and she has some questions regarding the Voltron Lion.” She ran her fingers along the yellow rock face that formed the walls of the corridors.  
“Zazir-deshi's ancestors were protected from invaders by Voltron in the deep past, so please do not worry. She wishes to keep the Lion safe, like you and Ozar-deshi have.”  
“Would she place it deeper underground?”  
“Perhaps. She is best to ask,” they came to a stop outside another set of doors Kolivan would need to bend down to enter through. Krish'allans were...small to say the least.  
“Will you be feasting with your people this eve or joining Zazir-deshi?”  
“Zazir-deshi, if she requires my presence.”  
“I see. She would like to know you more, but we will talk later. Please, enter.” With that, she pushed both elaborately carved doors open, and Kolivan found Zazir-deshi sat at the back of the room upon her throne.

 

* * *

 

“The auto-pilot is set for the Omega Shield Station. We should be within range by late tomorrow. Are there any other orders?”  
“We have space in holding?”  
“Yes, Commander.”  
“Then you are relieved of duty.” Sendak glanced up from his terminal as he watched the officer offer him a small nod. He turned his attention back to the report on the screen, narrowing his eye as he reread the same line again. They still hadn't found the Marmora agent or agents responsible for the murder on Central Command, and he was wondering if they ever would at this rate.

 

He felt his communicator vibrate in his pocket. Teasing it out, he glanced at who bothered to disturb him. Gnov. Of course.  
_On time. Five marks. Bloody fists. He's getting better. Galran is too.  
_He felt the fur bristle up and pushed the device away. He needed to focus on his work, and reminders about Champion were mere distractions he couldn't afford himself. Still, the growl in his throat eased out low, marking what was _his_ only served to rile him up further.

 

 _The reopened scar on his back screamed in white-hot agony. His own cries muffled and strained against the metal bit in his mouth that felt like it'd crack his teeth._  
“ _You were warned.”_  
_He couldn't stop his body shaking as the blade carved into his flesh._  
“ _Yet you chose not to listen. I concede you made it useful, but what use does it have in death? None.”_  
_The bit pushed hard against the corners of his mouth when he howled out in pain._  
“ _You need reminding of your place. I made you, and can destroy you. Consider this the penultimate warning.”  
__His ears pricked at the heavy footsteps moving away. There was silence for a few long ticks._

 

 _He could feel the corners of his mouth tear when he screeched out in pain that slashed from his right shoulder and down to his left hip. He felt the blood seep from his open wounds, felt it run down his back, his thighs. A pleased rumble came from behind him, close, and the chains suspending him were cut with a single slash. Sendak fell to a bloody heap on the floor, cybernetic eye catching the dark glint of his Emperor's eyes as he crouched down and pressed a firm hand against the back of his neck, blade poised.  
_“ _Just like Champion, you are forever my property to do with as I see fit.”_

 

The bridge was empty and he allowed himself to lean against the terminal, rubbing his tired eye and aching head. The Emperor was correct in his punishment, and his frustration would normally level at Champion. This time it sat with himself, and Sendak couldn't stand it. He didn't _tell_ Champion to do it, and he couldn't understand why he would let despair grip him so tightly. He was an enigma; his behaviour contradictory still even after all this time. Once Champion was returned to him, he would demand an explanation providing he wasn't delicate. A screaming match with him was fruitless, even _if_ the fight was enjoyable. A trill noise broke him from his thoughts: an incoming message. It seemed work called again.

 

-

 

“You know,” hands slipped around his waist, “glaring at the display is bad for your eye.”  
“My work keeps me busy, Lieutenant,” Sendak swiped the screen, “so unless you have something important you wish to see me about-” he felt Haxus's hands brush over his cock, a purr close to his ear.  
“There _is_ something I need you to take a look at, Commander.”  
“No one else can, or available?” His eye twitched as Haxus smoothed his fingers against the body suit, building up a lazy friction.  
“Apologies, but there is no one as...qualified as yourself. I will be certain to show you my gratitude, of course.” Haxus purred and the fingers stilled.  
“Lieutenant Haxus,” Sendak pushed his wrists away and slowly turned, watching Haxus's lips twitch as he back-stepped away, “are you asking me to forgo work for our Empire to sate your basest needs, like I am some variety of whore? I am your superior officer, and I will not stand such disrespect. Stand to attention.” He let the sneer hang as he stalked around Haxus, the instigating shit.  
“Your posture is awful.”  
“My apologies, Commander-”  
“Did I give you permission to speak?” He watched Haxus shake his head, those lips twitching again.

 

“Is there something humorous you would like to share with me, Lieutenant?”  
“No, sir!”  
“Lies,” Sendak pointed to the level below, “move, now.” He knew better then fucking Haxus against his terminal after they almost sent a live transmission to the Emperor once. At this time, there would be no incoming transmissions and no one to come on the bridge.  
“Stand to attention and do not move or speak.” Sendak barked as he shut down his terminal and made a slow amble towards Haxus, arms held behind his back.  
“Straighten your back. I said straighter, Lieutenant.” He came to a stop in front of Haxus.  
“I'm as straight as I can b-” Haxus blinked at the back-hand. He swallowed, going to shift his weight, but stilled at Sendak's growl.  
“You are testing my patience,” he caught Haxus by the jaw, tilting his head up by the chin, “and you have no permission to speak unless addressed.” Sendak leaned purposefully close, chuckling at the twitch in Haxus's eyes.

 

“Remove your armour and place your hands against the viewport, Lieutenant.” With a bow of his head and arm against his chest, Haxus kept a rigid stance as he slowly unclipped his armour, expression composed as their eyes remained locked together. Every creak of the material sounded like the only thing in the universe as Sendak watched Haxus slowly ease himself from it, placing it neatly on the ground. On one hand he didn't have all quintant for Haxus to strip off, but on the other hand every agonisingly slow movement had his desires flare. He knew what Haxus was doing, and he in turn knew what this did to Sendak.

 

Finally he stood naked, before moving towards the viewport. Sendak followed, his eye catching the gentle sway of his hips. His lips tugged at the corners when he noticed the plug. No matter how much intimacy they had shared, things with Haxus never got boring or stale. It was something he could appreciate about him. Watching him splay out his carefully filed fingers against the glass, Sendak caught the reflected smirk. He brought his hand down against Haxus's ass and observed his body jolt.

 

“You would do well to remember your place, Lieutenant.” He brought his hand down again, earning a soft hiss and a tilt of the hips.  
“Unless you _wished_ to invoke my ire. Did you, Lieutenant?”  
“Yes, sir.” The next spank echoed around the bridge, Sendak watching his lips tug upwards.  
“Explain.” Sendak let his hand trail against the fur over his ass before stopping to press against the plug so snugly sat inside.  
“I desired you do this to me,” he kept his voice remarkably even, “I am desperate for your attention.”  
“You have caught it. However,” Sendak brushed against the side of his face, staring at Haxus's reflection, “I need convincing you are worthy.”  
“Well, Commander, let me prove that, sir.” Their breath fogged against the glass, and with little warning, Sendak flipped his body around.

 

“Then get to work, Lieutenant.”  
“Gladly, Commander.” He forced Haxus down to his knees by his shoulder, and watched as he made short work of the bottom half of the body suit. He made the most sultry of purrs when he eased Sendak's cock from the confines of the fabric and took it in his mouth. Sendak loosened a low growl as he gripped Haxus's ear, smoothing the short fur as he snapped his hips forward. The choked purr and quick glance upwards only made Sendak harder and he kept up a sharp pace. Haxus gripped his hips tightly in his claws as his tongue worked its magic along the length of his cock. Sendak growled, pushing Haxus's head back against the glass, watching the saliva trails snap between the distance made.

 

“You are not to touch yourself, understand?”  
“Yes, sir,” Haxus panted, the scents of their needs mixed in the air between them, before Sendak pulled him back over. Haxus opened his mouth wide to take every inch of Sendak down his throat. He may have a reputation around Central Command, but it was a reputation based on his skills. This being one of them. Sendak found himself letting his head loll backwards, letting another low growl out. He could feel the tongue move deftly against the spikes and ridges as the claws traced lazy circles against the side of his hip bones. Absently, Sendak pulled at his ear again, watching intently under heavy eyes as Haxus forced himself back up and down his spit-coated length. He could come all over that face or even down his throat, and he knew Haxus would take it with such grace he'd say thank you and ask for more. Sendak hissed at the mental image, felt his cock twitch in excitement.

 

“Any more, and I will not be able to truly put you in your place, Lieutenant.” He pulled out and stepped back, slowly stroking himself as he looked over the crouched body. Haxus merely offered a small toothy smile back, the head of his own cock shiny from precome that beaded from the top. He rose and turned around, placing one hand against the reinforced glass and let the other pull his ass cheek open.  
“What would you have me do with this, Commander?”  
“Fuck yourself.”  
“But of course,” he spread his legs further apart and slowly teased the plug out releasing a sharp keen as he pressed his face against the glass, eyes heavy-lidded and mouth agape. Sendak watched him build up a steady rhythm; watched how his legs shuddered, how he licked his lips, the smallest incline of his head, and how his eyes glazed over as he became more rigorous. The glass fogged just below his mouth and he glanced, almost pleadingly, over at Sendak.  
“Please, Commander.”  
“Take it out.” To say he was hot under the collar would be a grave understatement as he walked over. With ease, he pulled Haxus's leg up and eased himself in, his hole thoroughly slicked with lube. Trust Haxus to be this prepared.

 

Sendak braced the glass with his prosthetic and gripped his hip as Haxus hooked his leg around his waist. Arching his back, the two let breathy moans escape their lips.  
“You are _terrible_ , Lieutenant.”  
“Only for you, Commander,” Haxus swallowed as he pushed himself down Sendak's length. They quickly fell into a shared sharp and deep rhythm, Sendak canting his hips up against Haxus's soft fur. The leg around his waist held him close, as if to lock him in. Not that Sendak minded as he ground in sharply, eliciting a desperate groan from Haxus.

 

“C-Close. C-Can I?”  
“Sing for me, Lieutenant.” Sendak growled in his ear, resting his forehead against the glass as he pushed as far as he could into the sweet heat. Haxus's purrs was like velvet, and Sendak's ears flicked when they picked up, Haxus's eyes fluttering closed as he worked himself to orgasm.  
“Not before me.”  
“Yessir!” The whine made him shudder, and moving his arm to hold Haxus across his chest, Sendak fucked as hard as he could into him; heady growls and groans drowning the sound of their bodies striking. Closing his eye as he felt the ridges flare, Sendak ground out a deep snarl as he came. Haxus came ticks later.

 

They remained locked together, the glass foggy or smudged with condensation from the heat of their bodies. Disentangling heavy limbs, Sendak passed Haxus back the plug.  
“Clean your mess, Lieutenant, then my quarters as soon as you are done.” He tried to obscure the panting as best he could, but the low chuckle from Haxus said he was caught.  
“Of course, Commander,” He glanced around at Sendak, coquettish smirk on his lips, “is there anything else?”  
“Make sure the glass and floor is spotless,” he dragged a claw across Haxus's lips. A hum of agreement was his response.

 

-

 

“You needed that, Sendak,” Haxus stretched out his arms before he flopped back onto the bed.  
“I did. I am grateful you are an ally,” he grinned at Haxus, who merely shrugged his shoulders in response.  
“I'm not _that_ bad! Besides, you saw my other skills, not just this.”  
“It is not just that,” Sendak pulled him into his chest, stroking his shoulder, “you are an exemplary example of the type of soldier the Empire needs, but also as a Galran citizen,” he licked the top of Haxus's head affectionately, “and I suppose you have been a good friend.”  
“You hurt me, Sendak.” Haxus nipped his chest before getting comfortable.

 

“So, what're you going to do with the disappointment?”  
“Which one?”  
“Both, I suppose.”  
“Champion I am undecided on.”  
“I can assist you if need be.”  
“I know, but you can assist me with Hepta if you wish.” At this Haxus glanced up.  
“What're you thinking?”  
“If he can satisfy you, then I will have him myself.”  
“Oh so you leave _me_ with the inexperienced dreck?”  
“Is he not the type you pick up whenever we stay anywhere?” Sendak smirked at the pout he received.  
“Okay, fine. You have twisted my arm-”  
“Like I needed to twist anything.”  
“Could share him. Bet he'd look nice full from both ends.” Sendak purred at the terrible glint in his eyes.  
“This is why I do enjoy your company, although I know not to bet with you.” He let his arm fall across Haxus's waist. Perhaps they could share him, perhaps he could make Champion take Hepta, or the other way around. There was time to work that out.

 

* * *

 

Hepta stepped to the side as the Druid and another technician passed by. The Druid carried the Marmora blade carefully in its weird hand. They were running some more tests, trying to 'unlock' it or something, but nothing they'd done worked. One technician had told him over lunch that the blade absorbed their and Haggar's magic, which was just _weird_. Nothing could do that, well, nothing but this blade. Maybe Druids and witches were weak against magic knives, but he'd have to think about that later.

 

He stepped into Haggar's office to find her stood behind her chair.  
“Sit, Officer Hepta.” She was as cheerful as usual, and he settled opposite her.  
“Depending on how the subject reacts to muscle strengthening, I will be taking it off-site for final testing shortly. I would like to offer you the opportunity to accompany me for further learning. Your work as of late has been exceptional, and to reward you, you will receive more responsibilities. Additionally, I have renewed your contract.”  
“Thank you, High Priestess. I'm grateful you've seen worth in my work. I didn't think I was doing well enough, honestly.”  
“It is in your observational skills and attention to detail. There is a project where that type of eye is required.”  
“Would you be able to give me some more details? Is it a long-term posting? Short-term?”  
“Short-term.” She replied swiftly, and that gave Hepta a moment to pause. At this point, he was a bit confused as to _what_ she really needed him for. There were qualified technicians here, and he wasn't one of those. Added, she didn't even _ask_ to renew his contract, because he really didn't feel comfortable working here any longer. Unless another secondment came up, he had to remain. His healer hadn't signed him back to cruiser-duties yet, but apparently this was fine? A dreck, that's what his healer was, or under her direction, either way it was bovas-shit.

 

“Are there...any other details?”  
“It is classified. You will need to sign some documents in time as per the Empire Secrecy Act after you have been suitably vetted. Finally, Officer Hepta, I would expect you to continue to behave professionally. It has been noted and would do you well if you wish to rise through the ranks.”  
“I understand, High Priestess,” he offered her a bow, “I'm truly grateful for your trust on something so important to the Empire.” He'd been getting good at lying through his teeth and sounding convincing. ESA's were usually given to commanders like Laddy and those who worked in the top secret facilities. You needed that clearance to get to the witch's deep lab.

 

“That will be all, Officer Hepta.”  
“Thank you once again, High Priestess. I'm looking forward to learning new things – anything to assist the Empire.” He offered her a smile and she nodded stiffly. With that, Hepta rose and left. He needed to contact Ulaz. He hadn't seen him for a few quintants' now through work and Ulaz spending some time alone, which Hepta realised he probably needed. He sent a message as he stepped out of the labs. For now, had a bar to return to.

 

-

 

He'd drank enough to have the courage to do this, which was a start. Sendak had indirectly pushed him to this, but it was the only thing Hepta could think of doing to ease the humiliation he expected. This was on his terms.  
“Thinking ain't sexy, whore _._ Why don't you keep focused on what's in front of you, yeah?”  
Hepta offered a small purr around the cock in his mouth. The other guy behind him dug his claws into his fur around his waist. He didn't know their names, nor did he want to. It was a kink...role play bar. Turned out a friend of a friend worked here, but everything that happened was secret. Especially when it came to that taboo of letting slaves fuck you. Hepta never understood that bovas-shit.

 

A firm spank against his ass told him he was thinking again. With a small growl he arched his back and raised his hips. The loud purr behind him and pace increase confirmed he'd done good, and the other guy rubbed his thumbs behind Hepta's ears. _That felt nice_. A firm hand lifted his face and the cock in his mouth pushed further in. Hepta loosened another purr and bucked backwards. Since prep was a thing here, this wasn't so bad. It was _nice_ not needing to worry about work or home or anything stressful. He grabbed the guy's hips and took more in his mouth. His own cock twitched and the heat spread through his body until he was drunk on the pleasure and alcohol. He made muffled purrs and whines, grazing his teeth against the hard skin and snapping his hips in tune to the thrusts.

 

The two swore and pulled out. Rolled to his back, he took them in both hands and stroked them until they came and his chest was covered in pink-white streaks. He let them smear it into his fur, then his mouth. He didn't care when they made him clean them both off, and agreed to let them take him back to theirs for the rest of the night-cycle. Hepta was vaguely aware of his legs hoisted in the air, a rough tongue against his length. He yowled, letting his head roll to the side.  
“P-Please.”  
“Been a good little whore, so you get a reward.”  
Hepta was pleased with that.

 

-

 

“Hepta, where the fuck have you been?”  
“I'm tired, Laddy, I'm going to bed.” Hepta groaned. His fur was sticky and he hadn't got round to sleeping, especially when the guys wanted to see how much stimulation he could withstand. It wasn't much before he'd cried for release. Everything hurt as well.  
“You are _not_ , Hepta Korvek! You are fucking sitting down and we're talking about your attitude _now_!”  
“You don't get to tell me what to fuckin' do-” the gut punch took the wind from him, and he dropped to his knees clutching at his stomach.  
“You have been a little dreck since your punishment with Sendak! Kaleska's been worried _sick_ about you! You know she stayed up all night because she thought you were coming home?!” Ladnok bared down over him, lips drawn back. “If you think for a tick that I can't smell what you've been up to, you're mistaken.”  
“Don't go judgin' me! She didn't _have_ t-”

 

Ladnok had never hit him that hard before in his entire life. He went to lunge, but she pinned him down.  
“What. Did. He. Do?” Her snarls were low in his face.  
“I. Can't. Say.” Hepta bit back, teeth bared and pupils narrow. “You _should_ know that.”  
“We _know_ it's bad, but stop withdrawing! You're hurting us and yourself!”  
“It's not about _you!_ ”  
“I've _been_ hurt like you! Why're you so _fucking stubborn?_ ” She slammed his shoulders into the floor. “We both care about you! Stop being so distant!”  
“Leave me to cope in my own way!”

 

“Your own way does nothing but hurt your sister, and I'm getting real fucking fed up of your bovas-shit.”  
They both looked up to find Trugg leaning against the archway. She'd clearly just woken up considering her messy hair and the squint-glaring she levelled at him. Trugg stalked forwards, crouching down beside the two of them.  
“Surprised you haven't been a snivelling, self-pitying wreck, Hep. Been coddled enough-”  
“Don't start this again, Trugg.” Ladnok interjected, pupils flicking to her.  
“It's true! If he wasn't coddled as a kit, then maybe he wouldn't bring so much shame to your clan. If he wasn't brought up thinking of slaves as _kin_ of all things-”  
Ladnok punched Trugg so hard in the jaw her head snapped to the side.  
“You _do not_ speak like that about Kaleska. You don't _speak_ about my family like that again!” The coldness in her eyes would've scared him if he was awake enough. He'd probably _be_ upset if he wasn't hungover. Hepta silently watched as she pushed herself away, her and Trugg gauging each other. He rolled to his stomach and picked himself back up onto his feet.

 

“I'm trying to _help_ you deal with him! The fuck, Ladnok?” Trugg wiped the blood from her mouth.  
“I didn't ask for your help! I told you to keep out of it before, but all your little jabs at him over the past few movements? You think I don't notice?”  
“How can he toughen up if everyone treats him like he's four-hundred? He's a fuckin' adult and acts like a brat! Doesn't train, doesn't _try_ and get better, just goes out and gets wasted. He doesn't _act_ Galran, and that's her fault-” Trugg was against the wall by her throat. Laddy looked murderous.  
“Get out.” She withdrew the hand and pointed to the door, “I don't want to see your face.”

 

Hepta took their growling and snarling as a sign to leave. This was about to blow up and would only make his headache worse. He ignored their orders to stay, Laddy's voice rising higher and louder as he left. They'd argue like always, and then they'd have make-up sex. If they broke up again, it wouldn't be long before they worked it out.

 

-

 

He leaned against the wall of one of the offices just by the cafe him, Shiro, and Ulaz had met at before. He'd ordered a drink and used the bathroom sink to scrub his fur as best he could, but was still disgusting. Ulaz was seeing Shiro. Apparently the witch needed a second opinion on his pain receptors. Ulaz supposed it was because he spent so much time studying humans, but Hepta had no clue at this point. He just hoped Shiro was doing okay.

 

“Hepta? I'd of thought you'd still be in bed.”  
He glanced up to find Thace a few paces away.  
“Been out,” he took a sip of his drink, “and home's not good right now.”  
“Ah. You just killing time?” Thace moved forwards and leaned against the wall beside him.  
“Guess so. Tired, really tired.”  
“You do look ready to crash. I have a couch, if you need somewhere?” Thace offered. Hepta gave him a once over. He didn't really know him that well, but he was always pleasant. He looked down at the floor. Well, if he asked him for anything Hepta would probably say yes anyway. He just wanted to sleep at this point.  
“There's nothing...ulterior, right?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Sorry, I'm just tired.”  
“I'm offering to let you sleep, I don't want anything from you, Hepta.”  
“Sorry. I want to say yes, but I don't want to put you out or...or-”  
“C'mon. You've had a rough night,” Thace patted his shoulder lightly, “I can tell.”

 

It was a quiet walk back to Thace's and took some time, but when he opened the door, Hepta couldn't help but gasp.  
“Your place is _so cool!_ ”  
“Just home, you know?”  
“Look at your library though!” Hepta looked to Thace, who nodded, and he tottered over to the bookcase, running a finger along the spines. It was primarily non-fiction, ranging from books on coding, intelligence gathering, hacking, ethics, social movements of pre-Diabazaal destruction, and a tome of a book regarding ethical information handling. There were some puzzle books and others on cryptography. His finger stopped at one that seemed so heavily out of place for three reasons. Firstly it was fiction, secondly, if he was remembering it right, it was banned, and thirdly, it looked well-worn. Quickly checking around, he teased it out from the shelf carefully. _Fifty Deca-phoebs Upon Broken Knees._ Yeah, this was one of the banned books.

 

“I can't blame you taking a look.”  
“I didn't mean to-”  
“At ease, Officer, it's fine. I gave you permission.” Thace set a glass of water and some tea down for Hepta before wandering off. Hepta carefully slid the book back in and padded over to the couch, finally remembering he was still wearing his shoes.  
“It's a first edition I was gifted. Published before Diabazaal was destroyed and Zarkon banned it.” Thace continued as if he'd never left the room as he came back with a duvet and pillows under each arm. Hepta nodded at him as he grabbed his own drink and settled opposite.  
“You know what it is, don't you?”  
“Yeah. It's...a story about this Galran kit, isn't it? He was orphaned and sold because of his beauty. Some clan leader brought and kept him.”  
“That's the basic plot, yes. Do you know why it's banned?” Thace watched him as he sipped his drink, and for some reason this felt like a test rather then a casual question. He was probably imagining it.

 

“Oh, it was stupid what I read. Cause it was pure-blooded Galra being kept as slaves as opposed to the caste system. Not you know, cause the main character's a kit. Even if he does grow up.”  
“Yeah. Zarkon didn't like the impression that it gave about the Galra, so he banned it after Altea was destroyed,” Thace yawned as he glanced over at the shelf, “some say it was based on a true story, like the southern clans on the dark-side of Diabazaal.”  
“Yeah, I read some of their alleged practices, but was never sure if it was northern propaganda since the southern clans were so out-classed.”  
“Hard to say, a lot's been lost to history.”  
“Victors always write it, huh?”  
“I suppose. Of course,” Thace held his drink in his lap, “it depends where you look, right?”  
“Yeah.” Hepta nodded as he gulped back his tea.

 

“Well, I had a night shift to contend with, so I really need sleep. Bathroom's just down there, and I won't wake you up like last time. You're free to make a drink and leave as you please, but just get some rest.” Thace smiled as he rose.  
“Thank you. I...don't get why you let me crash still.”  
“Simple. You're a friend of Ulaz, and I can see you're in a rough place. You'll be okay though, things have a way of working themselves out.”  
“Thace,” Hepta looked over his shoulder, “why do I feel that you know more then you're letting on?”  
“I really don't know much, but I know when someone needs a bit of a hand. Sleep well, Hepta.”  
“You too.” Hepta propped the pillows up and engulfed himself within the duvet. He cast his eyes back over the bookshelf again. _Maybe being higher on the food chain would let me access stuff like that?_ Maybe that job with the witch could be beneficial.

 

* * *

 

Thace exhaled as he put the communicator down. He'd let Ulaz know about Hepta. They were both surprised he knew so much about banned books, so would need to be extra vigilant around him to gauge what he _did_ know. Hepta was at least more right about southern practices then what he believed. It was a fact he knew just a _little_ too intimately. He may not have been orphaned through his parents dying like the boy in the book, but being gifted to the commander that oversaw his planet felt somehow worse. It was all because they owed him a life debt; apparently his life was forfeit for that. He stared at the ceiling and closed his eyes. He didn't want to dredge any more, and prayed that Hepta wouldn't inspire his mind to recall his servitude.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are! I'm likely going to cut to the last lot of augmentation cause it's about time this starts winding down and we move forwards. I'm missing Shiro and Sendak and just him hanging about with everyone. Aside from that, I need to plan a bit of next chapter and distracted by a few ideas, so it may take a while like this one has as a heads up. 
> 
> I do fancy some more sharkon porn as well at some point, maybe Zarkon not beating the shit out of shiro would be nice, huh?
> 
> Until the next chapter, m'dears!


	53. To Serve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long delay, but thank you all so much for the patience. Thank you guys for your kudos, comments, and the new readers!  
> This chapter is incomplete, because the actual chapter 53 is now 30 pages long and not done. There's also a LOT to process, so I made the decision to split it. It's a big Shiro and Hepta chapter, and Hepta's bits are honestly just...fun for the most part.
> 
> Heaviness this chapter sits more on interpersonal relationships and oh GOD. That's what's also eaten my time trying to write this bar work and being really tired lately. Also I keep writing porn snippets on discord for a fab group on the Shiro rarepair server.
> 
> Enjoy this hell :)
> 
> There's some smut, too. Also Galran chatter is bolded as per.

“K-Keith?” Shiro cracked his eyes open to find Keith sat in front of him. It'd been quintants, movements maybe, since he told him to leave him alone; and Shiro had, even if it felt like it went on for too long.  
“I can't stand it. Can't stand being like this,” His one eye looked like it was trying to bore a hole through the ground, “you taught me better then this.”  
“S'okay, I get it,” Shiro offered a pained smile. She may've finally dulled his pain receptors, but the testing process had been hellish. The Emperor saw to that. It didn't help that the migraine pulsing through his head came back either. It was always in the cell and it was weird.  
“I don't understand why she – _they_ – are doing this to you. What'd you do, Shiro? Did you try to escape? What?”  
“In the past, yeah. This,” he swallowed as he motioned vaguely at himself, “is I guess self-inflicted. Asked for this. Can't go back any more. You can, and I'm gonna try get you home.”  
“I can't go back without you.”  
“You can't stay here either. They'll end up killing you one way or another.”

 

“So why're you taking the burden of everything upon yourself?” Keith looked at him, confusion and defiance marring his face. Shiro offered a small laugh in return and closed his eyes.  
“I don't want you to become like me. Would rather carry it myself then risk seeing you succumb to this.”  
“If you hate it so much why don't you fight?”  
“I'm tired of fighting them. Have been for longer then I should admit,” he opened a single eye, “but I don't hate it either. There's good out there, safety with them. Just it comes with a heavy price.”  
“What's that?”  
“Your humanity and sanity.” He closed his eye, noting the sharp gasp, then growl of frustration. A heat pressed into his chest; soft, warm, comforting.  
“Then let me follow so you aren't alone.”  
“Don't say something that you'll regret later. Trust me.”  
“I do, and trust _me_ when I say I mean it. I came looking for you, and now I found you, I don't want you gone again.” He felt hands grip his shirt tightly, and without thinking he brought his prosthetic around Keith's waist.  
“Is this all because I missed your graduation?”  
“Maybe.” Keith offered a small hum of amusement, and Shiro pulled him closer, chest prickling like a need he didn't realise had been sated.  
“I've missed you.”  
“I missed you too, Shiro.”

 

-

 

Haggar could not be certain if it was the medication, its mental state, or something else, but she had to intervene with the illusions and push a harder narrative to get the subject out of its self-inflicted misery when it started to effect its performance. The only useful information that she could garner from all of this, was that this relationship in-particular seemed to effect it badly. It was another means for control, but the constant illusions were starting to take a toll upon her. Even now, her nose still bled. At least it would be awake more frequently; they were finally on the last phase of augmentation. Unless, of course, it required more later. It would depend on how the trials went.

 

She watched the monitors with intense scrutiny as she compared her live data feed against what she had already compiled, then her calculations as to what was required. She rested her chin on the top of her hands as she studied the right shoulder in motion. She didn't want to risk having the muscle tear and bone shatter regardless of what had been augmented, least of all the arm ripped clean off if she could help it; it would just prolong the augmentation. The only way Haggar could fix that was either layering additional muscle on top of what was there, or replacing the entire arm and anchoring it to the subject's chest, the former easier now she had grown replacement muscles from the samples she had.

 

-

 

Shiro's ears pricked as the last tube locked into place in his right shoulder. The witch had reeled off more numbers and words he didn't care to understand, so he just sat quietly and nodded his head. He had questions, probably should of aired them when she asked if he understood, but he wouldn't understand no matter how many times she explained it. He had been trying to help himself lately to ease the constant state of anxiety by trying to let things go. He could accept some things were out of his control and it was okay they were, because ultimately he couldn't do anything to stop it: he couldn't control everything around him because it was an impossible feat. In that sense, the witch knew what she was doing and like when he was a _kragna_ for the Emperor or left Sendak to make decisions, he had to put his faith in her whether he liked it or not.

 

He grunted as he leaned forward, eyes tracing the translucent tubes locked into the metallic rings. It was the rings that hurt; metal barbs pinched into his skin to keep them in place. One particular ring was attached to a knotted patch of muscle, one that Sendak had a habit of kneading. He missed those hands on him, his soft fur and their morning cuddles in bed. He just missed Sendak. He might've napped with Keith a few times, but with the continuous headaches and his lack of conversation unless prompted - unless Keith was always this way and he never realised - he just wanted to be back with the Commander. Hopefully he could bring Keith as well. It'd be nice to show him how good Sendak could be. He just had to behave, but Shiro would see to keeping him in check.

 

Shiro stared at the pale blue liquid fill the tubes that hung either side of his chest. The colour reminded him of machine fluids. It wasn't quintessence-based since it didn't glow, at a guess. He closed his eyes and felt it; the shooting pain of tiny needles injecting the liquid all over his body. Pain receptors enhanced or not, he couldn't help the noise that came from his mouth even after stuffing his metal fingers inside to offset the cry. He watched the colour drain from the tubes, and for the briefest of moments he felt he wasn't human at all. Not in the way that he was a monster or when he was a _kragna_ ; no, this was different.

 

It started as a strange numbing sensation that turned to tingling; like pins and needles but all over his body. Shiro tried to shrug the feeling away but the action itself seemed to make it worse. He could feel the muscles tense, twitch, and jerk out without his permission. The metal dug in was shredding his skin as the motions became more violent and he couldn't help the cries he made. The witch merely watched, opting to just disengage the tubes one by one before the convulsions kicked up a notch.  
“This is expected of the strengthening. Do not resist.” She muttered as she removed one tube from behind him, a firm hand holding his shoulder. Shiro could only watch her as she moved about like this was normal. She must've done this before – Kaleska a strong contender. Some cracked noise escaped his lips when his back muscles went, and he fell back against the table and struck his head. He could barely focus on the reflection of his agony above him.

 

Mirrors. He hated them so much these quintants. If he could, he'd never look in one again. The reflection mocked him; reminded him of everything he'd sacrificed of himself and for what? To be a twitching mess on a metal table? To watch some random fuck him in a dingy bathroom for ten dobosh's? To trace the map of scars and burns over his body and wonder, in the depths where he really hated falling to now, who would willingly want to touch him with all the new ones? All the blood that stained his skin that briefly made him wonder why he really didn't want Keith to see it, but he couldn't find a reason. There was no shame in killing, the arena was fine, so why? Maybe it was just the fear he could see in his reflected eyes; fear like a rabbit caught in the headlights before a truck crushed bone and sinew to a messy stain across the road, just to be ground in again and again-  
_No. Stop ruminating and snowballing it.  
_He wished that he'd knocked himself out.

 

-

 

“Haggar wants to see you, Kal.”  
She looked up from the folded sheets to find Hepta peeking around her door frame. She sighed and set them down.  
“Why ya actin' like I'm gonna scold ya?”  
“I'm not-”  
“Hepta, I weren't born yester-quintan', ya know?” She dropped herself to the soft mattress, patting the space beside her. Eventually she heard tentative footsteps and the felt the mattress depress, but this was anything but comfortable between them.

 

“Feel like I haven't seen ya in a long time, like when ya were out on the cruisers.”  
“Just seeing people - friends.”  
“Glad ya gotcha yaself some friends.”  
“Though you hate Ulaz.”  
“Yeah,” he watched her pause, gaze hardening as if she wanted to go off on one about him, “but as I said ta Shiro, glad he can be different fer ya.”  
“Been researching too. Then sorting out my forms; just need my references. My old Commander, Herrah, and Ulaz are doing them for me.”  
“Do ya know whatcha ya doin'?”  
“No, not until I get signed off. Have to get a special clearance,” Hepta stared at his metal fingers as he spoke, “I think it'll help me.”  
“How?” He glanced up to find her sharp gaze trained on him and sighed.  
“Can help Laddy, you, out.”  
“If ya wanna help us, ya need to go back ta bein' honest.” Kaleska rose from the bed and stood in front of him, arms folded across her chest.  
“So ya wanna tell me aboutcha notebooks? Ya were lucky I found 'em, cause if Laddy did, well.” Hepta felt himself shrink under her gaze.  
“You scolded me.”  
“Ain't a scoldin', just a question. C'mon,” a large hand extended to him, “lets getta leaf-water an' kest.” He looked up to find her face softer, and grabbed her forearm tightly.

 

“Fell outta ya bag when I was cleanin' up. Noticed 'em in ya room too, an' honestly, no one writes anythin' down unless they gotta reason; all data pads these quintan's.”  
“What did you see?”  
“This an' that,” she sipped her drink slowly, “lotta thorough notes on shit the Empire's been up ta, shit ya shouldn't know abou'.”  
“How do you know I shouldn't know about it?”  
“'Cause in ma position, Hepta, ya tend ta get forgotten abou'. Lotta shit I heard in meetin's I got pulled to, when ya ma and Laddy have comrades over.” She settled her hands on the table, “point is, some of 'em notes ya got there relate ta cover-ups I know abou'. Whatcha plannin'?”  
“N-Nothing! I'm just researching-”  
“What? Why now? Ya know what Trugg an' Gnov are doin', ya seen the news,” the rumble of her voice lowered, “so why're ya writin' all this shit down, why ya disappearin', actin' out? Are ya,” she paused, scrubbing a hand against her neck, “ya know I don't even know how ta say this, _think_ it.” She took a deep breath and braced the table.

 

“Are ya tryin' ta destabilise the Empire? Ya trying to get rid of Zarkon? Has _Sendak_ got ya doin' this-”  
“No! No, no, no, nope, no!” Hepta's hands hit the table so hard when he came up, the chair fell backwards, tea spilling over the surface, “oh my gods, no! What the literal fuck, Kal?” His mind caught up quickly as her eyes widened, mouth agape in shock.  
“Sorry, sorry. No, I'm not trying to do that at all. I wouldn't for _him_ , and do you really think he'd try and overthrow Zarkon? No way in _Altea_ he'd do that.”  
“Then _why_? Why ya riskin' yaself?” She rose from her own seat, dwarfing him as she bared down. Hepta swallowed; she was upset, worried, scared for him. He felt his stomach drop and he couldn't...he couldn't and shouldn't but he _had_ to. It was Kal, and he was hurting her.

 

“Even if I wanted to destabilise the Empire, it wouldn't work and it'd be suicidal. You, Laddy, you'd be _killed_ ,” he let his face fall, screwing his eyes shut as he spoke, “but I don't wanna just...be stuck living like everyone else, being scared, just agreeing with what we do to comply but then talking in hushed whispers about how wrong it is. You, Banlu, Shiro, slavery itself is dumb, Kal, it's so outdated and I _hate it_. I hate the way you're treated like nothing and unimportant when you _are_.” He ignored the way his vision smudged with tears.  
“S-So I wanted to educate myself and I'm doing that, you know? At first I wanted to just...go after what he said, did, and I still...feel like I let you guys down...and I'm probably gonna let the clan down too at this point but I'm not happy any more with how it is. I've been a total ignorant dreck and...and _scared,_ ” his voice cracked, “but I can't change that if I don't try, and I can't stay with the Empire.”  
“Ya sayin' what I think ya are?”  
He glanced up to look into her eyes; hard and piercing. Hepta swallowed but steeled himself.  
“I'm gonna try and find the Blade of Marmora. I think they're the only ones that can do anything. The Empire's done nothing but cause suffering and I don't wanna sit back any more.”

 

In real time, he watched her digest his words. Her expression kept changing, seemingly unable to settle. Even her scent was all over the place, and he couldn't fault her. She braced the table as she sat back down, holding her head in her hands.  
“ _T'fuck_ _happened ta ya?_ ” Her voice was low, too low.  
“What do you mean?”  
Her green eyes flashed as she lifted her head.  
“How _t'fuck_...why the fuck... _fuck_! Ya gonna getchaself _killed_! I already caught ya, ya know? Ya'd be...Hepta, I getcha wanna help, but ya _betrayin'_ the Empire! Ya and Laddy, ya can't just...didja even _think_?” She grabbed his wrists and yanked him close, eyes wild with fear. She was trembling; _shaking_. He wanted to take it all back, every single word, but he couldn't. She was right; he'd made a big mistake by being negligent with his belongings. Next time he wouldn't be.

 

“Kal...what do you want me to do?”  
“I dunno, Hepta, I dunno at all.”  
“I'm gonna find a new home for them.”  
“Moving them won't-”  
“It won't be in the clan home, ya know? It'll be safe and away, and we can forget it.” Hepta's offered smile was not accepted.  
“Hepta I ain't got the luxury of forgettin'! Ya forgettin' yaself they can search my mind whenever they fuckin' please?!” She snapped, holding him tighter, “who t'fuck put these ideas in ya head?”  
“N-No one!”  
“Ya sure Sendak didn't do it?”  
“Yes!” Hepta retorted, growing exasperated as she grabbed his shoulders, “Kal, he may as well be the catalyst for this bovas-shit, but if ya really, _really_ wanna know, he...he,” Hepta swallowed but took her forearms, “he made me take Shiro's place and said if my citizenship was ever revoked he'd buy me and keep me as a pet! Said it was a good thing Shiro and I couldn't breed! He threatened Laddy and I can't-”

 

“He did _what_?”  
The quintant couldn't get any worse. They both turned to find Ladnok stood in the doorway, pupils flicking between them both.  
“Mistress-”  
“Silence.” Ladnok set her armour down, stalking forward to take Hepta by the shoulders roughly, “how did he threaten me?”  
“S-Something about holding you to account if I fought it.”  
“Did you?”  
“I...stupidly said I'd do anything but agreed, okay? I agreed and I gotta do it _again_ because apparently I didn't do 'good enough'!” Hepta snapped. He didn't want this, didn't want them to learn how pathetic he was. He couldn't even take a punishment properly.  
“Explain,” Ladnok's grip tightened on his shoulders, her nails digging through the fabric. Hepta could smell Kaleska's worry. _Fucking Sendak.  
_“Fine,” he pulled himself from her grasp and made some distance, ears flicking in annoyance as he stared at the wall, “he had me out in this real fancy bar and I had to put out. I was walking funny cause he didn't use lube, okay? It hurt to sit down even with quintessence.”  
“Where did you get quintessence from?” Ladnok's voice was low, just like Kaleska's earlier.  
“Friend. I didn't come home right away.” He replied stiffly.  
“Why?”  
“'Cause I felt ashamed. Knew you'd both be angry. Want to kill him. I don't want either of you to get in trouble for me. I wanted to face my own consequences by myself and not involve you,” he tilted his head back towards the two, “but now I guess it's another problem I've made, huh?”

 

Ladnok surveyed him carefully. Sendak had preyed on her brother naiveties, as she'd expected, but to manipulate him like that? To threaten him with harming her and his citizenship? If he sat lower on the food chain he would see her axe without hesitation.  
“He asked me,” Hepta continued with a cold laugh, “if I was really sure I would do anything. Should've realised, but I was still drunk and he just kept...buying me drinks.”  
“Hepta, tha's enough,” Kaleska was always the first to break, but he held his hands up as she approached.  
“Don't, I'm coddled, okay. Trugg was right. Laddy, I'm sorry, it's my fault you guys broke up, it's _my_ fault you've both been worried, and now it's my fault again for being reckless and kittish and a dreck _again_ and giving you both trouble.”  
“No,” Ladnok finally answered, “Trugg and I have always had issues. She over-stepped and that's it. I will have _no one_ disrespect our clan and your upbringing. You will explain everything to me, and what you were talking about before I came in, and like always we'll work it out.”  
“Y-You're not angry? I ruin _everything_!”  
“I'm irate, Hepta, but not at you.” She sniffed as she smoothed Kaleska's hands in hers, seeing her shaking like this always put her on edge and she'd not have it.  
“I do, however, want to know right now who knows what's happened? Who are your friends?”  
“I...don't get why you need to know?”  
“Answer the question.” She cast a sharp look at Hepta, who loosened an anxious yowl.  
“There's Officer Ulaz and Lieutenant Thace. They haven't done anything except be really kind to me. They listen, let me rant.”  
“I see,” she exhaled sharply and placed her hands behind her back, holding her head high defiant of her emotions.

 

“Kaleska, I believe that the High Priestess wished to speak to you. Has Officer Hepta relayed the message?” She tilted her head to Kaleska.  
“He said somethin' abou' it, but I didn't let 'im finish.” She bowed her head in apology.  
“I see. I would suggest you both head out and do not keep her waiting. On your return, please fetch some vegetables and fruits from the markets, as I believe we are almost out.”  
“Yes, Mistress,” Kaleska clicked quickly, and she rose from the seat towards the kitchen.  
“Laddy, what're you-” She threw her arms around him, drawing him into a bone-crushing hug.  
“You're a dreck,” she swiped her tongue against his cheek, “if you think for a tick that we'd see you as the one at fault here.”  
“Ribs.”  
“They're fine,” she pressed their cheeks together, licking her lips, “on a serious note, I was in the same situation as you a long time ago. Mum went ballistic.” She felt him tense against her and she laughed a little herself, “but at me, deca-phoebs ago when I was in training.”  
“What was _wrong_ with her?”  
“It's why I won't be angry at you. It hurt, and it's why I spent so much time away. Glad your friends have been there for you, but don't forget that we're here either, and Herrah too.” She smiled as she felt his tongue lick against her cheek in response.  
“Thanks. I hated this, ya know?”  
“Just be honest, and as said, we'll find a way.”  
“I'm gonna give you a bigger headache, you realise?”  
“At this point I expect it,” she let him go, brushing the back of her fingers against his damp eyes, “now go take Kaleska down, c'mon.”

 

-

 

“Kal, you're quiet. Are you-”  
“I ain't fine, and I ain't happy, jus' scared,” she took a deep breath to still the shakes. As of late, her mind had been sick with worry, and knowing that Hepta thought they'd reject him after what he'd recounted didn't ease the stabbing feeling in her chest.  
“I'm sorry.” She watched his ears droop and unclenched her jaw. She grabbed him under the arms and lifted him clean off the floor into a hug.  
“R-Ribs! Why d'you keep forgettin' ribs?!” She clutched him a little tighter, pressing her lips to the crest on top of his head.  
“Ya know I love ya, righ'?”  
“Y-Yes! Kal, we're out, put me down,” he wiggled, just like he always did. She kissed the crown of his head again and gently placed him back to the floor. She knew she'd get through this, knew it was shock and Ladnok would sort what she could, but her gut refused to settle, it was just like when he was brought back.

 

“ _Kalaska! He's not going anywhere!”  
Ladnok scolded after her, but she didn't care if her shoulder was bleeding or if the door was broken, the Galra needed to make them faster-moving. Healers and their ilk pressed themselves against the walls as she barrelled down the corridor, one near the end where Hepta's room should be was savvy enough to slam their hand against the panel early._

 

 _She burst through the door and found him with tubes down his throat and thick bandages around his upper body.  
_“ _H-Hepta,” time stopped as she staggered over, suddenly all the energy drained away. She went out to reach for a hand, but couldn't find one. Where was it? Why was there- she stared at the body again, drinking in the lack of shoulder joints. Suddenly she found her knees cold against the floor. The steady beep of his heart rate the only thing in her ears._

 

“ _They weren't salvageable.”  
_“ _They?”  
_“ _Both his arms.” Ladnok's hand rested on her shoulder, voice controlled.  
_“ _Why didn'tcha tell me?” She couldn't help the guttural growl.  
_“ _I was concerned that you'd kill half of his healers. It wasn't an easy call to make either,” the hand gripped tighter, “but I've got it under control.”  
_“ _Got what under control?”  
_“ _I've asked Haggar to make him some prosthetics. She snaps at chances to design something new, and this isn't exactly...frequent.” Ladnok knelt down beside her, locking their hands together, “he's gonna need both of us, and I'm going to pull as many strings and call in as many favours as I have to so he stays safe.”  
_“ _How t'fuck ya can stay so level-headed is beyond me, really fuckin' is.” She squeezed at the clawed hand.  
_“ _Well, we both know whose fault that was. The clan's well-being's more important then the Empire, you included. I can pull you from duties if you want?”  
_“ _Fer a few quintants, I ain't gonna be there,” she tapped her crest._

 

 _Ladnok shifted beside her.  
_“ _It's a bit uncomfortable down here, I'm gonna get us something to sit on.”  
_“ _My ass is too big fer most Galra seats, I'll stay here.”  
_“ _I'll get you a blanket and see about some cushions. By the way, don't break down the doors,” Ladnok gently knocked into the side of her, “I gotta pay for that now.” They shared a small laugh and she felt her rise.  
_“ _He'll need you.”  
_“ _I know, and I'll be there.” She kept her gaze locked on his unconscious form, jaw clenched tight together. Ladnok always put the clan first, but that didn't ease the fear in her gut. She didn't know if he would come out the same after all this, what this type of injury could do. Back on her planet they didn't have prosthetics. In Hepta's case, he'd perhaps become an instructor at best or leave never to return like those with the dead eyes. She shivered. She detested and feared that look. For a few ticks she was grateful he was Galran._

 

“We're here,” Hepta led her through after reporting in to the Druid. It nodded and vanished to alert Haggar. The two wandered through the halls until they reached the lift. Her anxiety hit him like one of Shiro's punches probably would.  
“She wants me _down there_?”  
“Y-Yeah.”  
“Fuckin' hate tha' place.” She moved behind him, almost as if his smaller frame could protect her from what lurked down below.  
“I wish I could come with you.”  
“Ya don't, think who ya gonna end up seein' down there.” He turned to look up at her, her eyes locked on him.  
“I don't know why she'd need you both-” Hepta stopped when she tapped her arms.  
“Suspectin' she needs me to test his muscles.”  
“You...you have to fight him?” Kal's silence was answer enough. He couldn't ask any more as the lift doors opened.

 

A pair of Royal Guards marched out with Shiro between them. His gaze quickly flicked over Shiro's body. Dark circles like he hadn't been sleeping sat under his eyes, which was what caught him most. The sclera. He blinked, but then Shiro was gone.  
“Did you see them?”  
“Yeah, been watchin' 'em change colour. Quintessence exposure.” Kaleska rumbled stony-faced.  
“Is he going to the Emperor, you think?”

 

“He is, Officer Hepta.”  
They turned to find Haggar in front of them, golden gaze as frigid as always.  
“You will be contacted in due course to collect the Rudiarius. Go.” With a wave of her hand, Hepta quickly bowed and moved to the side. He bit his bottom lip tight as he heard Kal's heavy footfalls, then the doors close with a click. He scrubbed his face and pressed the panel against the nearest door. Just ten dobosh's, he just needed to sit and think.

 

As the lights came on, he blinked around the room slowly. Aside from a locked terminal, there wasn't anything of note. Well, until his eyes landed on the blade that sat on the table.  
“The fuck has this been left out for?” He stomped over and stared at it, like it was the blade's fault it was just left unsupervised. Taking out his communicator, he snapped a photo with a groan.  
_Even I'm not this level of irresponsible! I could walk out of here right now with this!  
_He sent the message to Ulaz and canvassed the office. This one was without cameras, like most rooms within the labs, to stop possible hacking breaches. No one sane would ever try and steal from them thanks to Haggar and the Druids, but some rooms were watched. With a groan he walked back over to the blade, glancing over at data pad. He settled down, narrowing his eyes at the locked screen. Either switch user or login. He tapped it, and with a quick glance up, input the password. His colleague was always so obvious, and he was curious what they were looking at exactly. Pulling out his communicator again, he snapped the list of readings and other data before putting it all back as he found it. He knew a little something about being sneaky.

 

There was a soft jingle from his hand and he brought the communicator back up again.  
_You cannot understand how insulting that is to me on a personal level. Let Haggar know. Would you put it away?  
_Hepta smiled as he typed back.  
_I know? Like do your job properly??? I'm gonna try let her know but she's got Kal rn. Will defo put it back but like...do I need gloves?  
_A pause.  
_Hepta you can't leave fingerprints. It is just a blade. Pick it up and put it away.  
_“Fine.” He answered to the communicator. Setting it down he located its container and clicked his tongue. If he got in trouble for this, he wouldn't be impressed. As he brought his hand over the dull metal, the centre piece to the hilt lit up. Hepta staggered backwards as if he'd been burned, staring at his hand and then the blade. _What in Zarkon's name is going on_? He approached the table again, one hand outstretched while the other was clasped around his mouth. The sigil came to life, glowing brighter as he ghosted his hand above the surface. Taking a deep breath, Hepta closed his eyes and snatched it up. Cracking open an eye, he brought it close, heart hammering in his chest. _What does this mean?_

 

Both panic and shock gripped him as he rotated it in his metal fingers. He brought it up to the light, watching wide-eyed as it caught the edges of the sleek metal. He could easily take this; take it and run. _Run where?_ Try and find people who made it their life not to be found? How would he even start up that conversation? His hands shook, feeling the weight of all of this crash down on top of his shoulders like trying to carry Kal after she had too much to drink. _It may not mean anything?_ No, of course it did. Was this his now? Was he responsible for this knife? In a panic, he tossed the thing upwards, eyes screwed shut. He had to let go, had to.

 

There was no clatter. He cracked open his eyes, looking around. _Oh fuck where did it go?_ He should've heard it. He jogged around the room, checking just in case it fell somewhere. _Shit, shit, shit_. It went up, so it should come down. The gravity generator was obviously working- oh. Hepta peered upwards, ears drooping.  
“Well shit.” He stared at the deactivated knife stuck in the ceiling. He wasn't entirely sure how to get it down, or how it was even lodged in there. It was made of luxite, but was it seriously that sharp?

 

“Hepta? What're you doing in here?”  
He whipped his head around to find his colleague stood in the doorway, arms laden with snacks.  
“The room was open and I came in to have to think, and then I saw the blade unattended. Was that you?”  
“Uh shit yeah. I wasn't gonna be long, and literally no ones down here. Ah fuck, can you not report me to Haggar?” He dumped the snacks on the desk and stank of anxiety.  
“So long as you do the same.”  
“Why? What happened?” He raised an eyebrow as Hepta pointed upwards.  
“I think I forgot how to use my arms again and uh...too much force behind my throw.” He grinned sheepishly, “if you stand on my shoulders I _think_ you can reach it.”  
“Deal! Thank fuck we're both colossal drecks! You can have a bag of salted meat afterwards if you want?”  
“Sure, and gods, aren't we? I should see if the Druids could look at my arms – see if there's anything off.” Hepta laughed as he looked up at the ceiling. It was lucky he was like this, because if he'd been asked to get it down himself with company, there'd be a lot of questions and he'd be fucked. They'd tear his mind apart even if they found nothing but his recent conversations. He needed to see Ulaz as soon as possible – he needed advice fast.

 

-

 

As expected, the impact of the fist was nullified against the plating. The Rudiarius may be able to easily toss Subject G8LT95 around, but the point of this exercise was to test the integrity of the plating under intense attack. So much as her current subject could do so, there was more animosity here, and therefore pure aggression that would seep through into every strike. Ultimately, she was the superior choice in height, weight and strength; a worthy potential weapon in her own right if Malveg and Ladnok had chosen not to reject the proposal. Such a waste of potential down to subjective feelings once again. A terrible trait. It was worse then Sendak in that they viewed her as kin: _family_. Such thoughts always brought about feelings she could never quantify and like always, she ignored such absurdities.

 

Her lips twitched upwards as her subject caught the Rudiarius' arm and bent it back. Her roar of agony brought Haggar a sense of pride in what she had created. It was once again another testament to cold bodies and their usage. She leaned back in her seat; she would let this continue for now. Any damage done to the Rudiarius would be evidence to what her subjects could do. It was a distraction from the loss she was finding herself at with locating the Lions, data still difficult to mine from such ancient systems. With what she had found, it just lead to dead ends.

 

-

 

Shiro had finally been allowed to shave again and he relished it. His hair still had to remain long, but it was a matter of give and take. He'd been left once again in the Emperor's chambers alone. It was likely another delivery session, and like the last few times, he _would_ succeed and be rewarded, and Zarkon rewarded well. He was always in control and Shiro _wanted_ to bend to his wishes, but sex with Sendak was still his preference. He absently licked his lips; just the memories alone stirred something in his gut. He'd seen so many sides to him, felt his wrath and the times he'd been tender with him. Sharp claws and teeth marking him as his, the whispers in his ear. _Fuck_. He desperately wanted his Commander; feel sharp teeth against his neck and claws sunk deep into his hips. Shiro wanted to beg for his cock, needed him inside. He flopped back into the sheets and closed his eyes. Taking his cock in his metal fingers, he started slow, raking his sharp nails over his chest. Gods, when could he see his Commander again? When could he sit between his thighs on his knees and be throat-fucked? A soft groan escaped his lips as he arched his back.

 

“Don't let the Emperor catch you doing that without him here.”  
Shiro didn't even hear them enter and bolted up. Blinking through the haze, Arasgi, if he remembered correctly, was stood there with a lazy smirk on his face and wearing translucent fabrics threaded through metal rings.  
“How long have you been there?”  
“Only just got here, but at least you're making my job easier,” He settled next to Shiro, still as lithe as ever, and ran fingers over his naked chest, “can I presume you want something inside?”  
“Yes, fucking hell, _yes_.”  
“Jeez, you really are like a bitch in heat,” he leaned in, biting at Shiro's lip with sharp teeth, and pushed him back into the mattress, “but that's why I think the Emperor lets me fuck you.” Arasgi growled, pushing his tongue into Shiro's mouth. He was held captive under his weight, rutting against his thigh for friction. Shiro blindly pawed for the slit; he just _needed_ this.

 

They panted as the kiss broke. Arasgi crawled up his body, settling his thighs either side of Shiro's face; spreading the folds of the slit with an expectant look. Shiro pulled his hips forward, flicking and probing with his tongue. This was good; to just enjoy and let pleasure consume him. He wanted to make Keith feel this good too...maybe he should just ask.  
“Stop drifting,” Arasgi growled, gripping his hair tightly in both hands, “c'mon, Champion, lemme see you desperate.”  
Shiro snapped back from his thoughts. With a smirk of his own, he pushed his tongue inside the slit, withdrawing it as the tapered end pushed itself out. Shiro ground his face against his hips, adamant he was going to take the fucking thing in his mouth.  
“Keep proving me right,” with another growl, Arasgi held Shiro in place, rubbing circles into his cheeks. Shiro moaned around it, blinking seductively upwards.

 

“So glad they prepared you.” Arasgi muttered as he pulled himself out, stroking his spit-slick cock. Shiro fell back into the sheets and drew his legs up.  
“P-Please.”  
“Gods, you _are_ a bitch, aren't you?” He crawled over, grinding the tip against Shiro's twitching hole. He let his head fall to the side, mind crawling back to Sendak.  
“Y-Yeah.”  
“Loosening you,” the cock breached the rim, “is one of my favourite jobs the Emperor assigns me,” Arasgi gripped his legs tight, pushing Shiro's thighs flush against his chest as his cock slid in, “cause he tells me I do such a good job, and it means I get a night off having to please the Royal Guards. One quintant, I can join the harem properly and go out with him...no more training.” He breathed as he seated himself fully inside Shiro, the position a strain on his muscles but hitting everything it needed to. The moan from his throat was filthy, and as he watched the tapered cock ease out, he couldn't help the shiver that shot through his body as it slammed back in.

 

It wasn't long until they were both a panting mess, grinding their bodies as best they could together in desperation. Arasgi bit down on the meat of his shoulder, and in return Shiro grabbed his hair and tugged. His muscles ached, but the sex was too good to really care much.  
“Gods, wish I could breed you.” Teeth grazed against his collar bone.  
“Keep...there.” He dragged metal fingers across his back, eyelids fluttering shut as the teeth raked over his skin. The friction and stimulation against his insides felt so good; he was losing himself to the moment and could easily let go. It wasn't until he felt the cock bulge and twitch, signalling the end was close, that Shiro grabbed his own strained cock, violently pumping the thing for some release of his own as he shuddered.  
“Sing for me, Champion.” Arasgi hissed, body tense against his.  
And Shiro's moans rang out as muscles contracted. He felt the hot rush flood his insides, his own seed spilling across his stomach. Jaws locked down against his shoulder, digging in so deep Shiro's voice cracked from the combined pain and pleasure of it all, stars and spots clouding his vision.

 

It took a few dobosh's for the wet warmth over his shoulder to register. Arasgi lay slumped besides him, watching with heavy eyes.  
“What is it?”  
“Bleeding,” Shiro frowned at the smeared blood on his fingers, “why'd you mark me?”  
“Oh, oh shit sorry it was an accident,” Arasgi bolted up, eyes darting around, “I lost myself – the Emperor said not to do that. I'm not allowed. Fuck. Fuck.” He scrambled off the bed and scampered away to another room. Shiro groaned as he sat up, clamping his hand over his shoulder. Even with augmentation, it broke the skin. _How strong were his jaws?_

 

He reappeared less than a dobosh later, arms laden with bottles, wipes, and gauze. He dumped them next to Shiro and hopped back up.  
“Do you wanna tell me why the fuck you're panicking?” Shiro hissed when the sting of the damp sterilised wipe pressed against his skin.  
“Cause in my culture that's a claiming mark – that you're mine – and I shouldn't of. Fuck, Champion, I didn't mean to! It's just... you know what it's like when they just take away...”  
Shiro's mind zoned in on the claiming mark.  
“I'm Empire property, look, Sendak's marked me too,” Shiro growled as he pointed to his neck, “and that's no excuse!”  
“It's an accident! I didn't mean to- _please!_ Zarkon'll punish me for doing this and I just _can't_ keep taking them-” The pleading was _pathetic_.  
“You _can't_? You _will!_ You got yourself into this mess by trying to claim what's not yours, so you get face the consequences just like everyone else!” Shiro's eyes flashed as he leaned forward, lips curled back into a sneer.  
“And so what if they take from you? Everyone else has had enough stripped from them! You're not excused from punishment just because your job's riding the Emperor,” he took another wipe and pressed it against his shoulder, “and you need to learn that your culture and home means nothing here. Forget it or let it eat away. Your purpose is to do as commanded, like all of us.” He settled back into the sheets, ignoring the wet warmth dripping between his legs. Arasgi hunched over, drawing himself in as realisation dawned. Shiro didn't have sympathy; why should he? Concubines were the best kept; they couldn't mark who they pleased.

 

-

 

Zarkon arrived to a tense atmosphere he was not expecting. He looked between his concubine and Champion, eyes catching the shoddy bandaging taped over the skin; certainly not the work of Haggar. His concubine ducked his head, the fear scent strong as he approached the bed. Champion looked up, head held high, no scent of fear about him, but with the look and smell of umbrage. Zarkon tore the bandage from the skin; brushing the fresh puncture marks with a look of disdain. His hand fell to his side and with a low growl, he snapped his fingers.

 

The feeble whimper only served to frustrate him more.  
“You disappoint me.”  
“I-It was an accident-”  
“You have no permission to speak,” Zarkon grabbed him by the hair, dragging the writhing form across the bed. Champion remained silent and still; proving to Zarkon once again that his reconditioning was not for naught. He dropped the slave to the ground, pressing his foot against his neck.  
“Property cannot claim. You will be reminded of this. Champion, bring him.” With another click, he moved towards a side room, hearing Champions soft footfalls and the pitiful sobs of his concubine. Privileges would be removed; reminders made. His control was absolute, not the lustful whims of a whore.

 

He pointed to the floor and Champion forced the slave down to his knees. It was an old process not too dissimilar to how prisoners were treated presently, and an oddity that Champion knew of such outdated practices.  
“Open his mouth.” Zarkon took the pliers and moved silently towards the pair, the pleading look lost upon him as he tilted his slave's head up, fingers slipping around his throat. With no remorse or hesitance, he pulled out the long canines, dropping them to the floor one-by-one, tears and garbled sobs offset by the absolute silence of Champion and his stoic expression.  
“Chain him.” Zarkon pulled himself up, glaring in disgust as the blood ran down the pale skin. Champion nodded and tugged him over to the wall.

 

“Here. Sit.” Zarkon pointed a few paces behind him, and Shiro slipped into position. Zarkon flexed his fingers, the bayard materialising within his hand. Shiro straightened his back as he watched it transform. He used to wonder about it, but now he accepted it as simply Zarkon's most powerful weapon. The chain whip struck the floor, and with a well-placed swing, Shiro watched it slice through the skin and thin material on Arasgi's back, tearing the long scar open. He jerked, clenching his fists tight against his thighs. The sound of the scream rang in his ears, now more sensitive to the inflections and whimpers. He watched the blood run like ink down his back, then Zarkon tear open the rest of the scar with a small blade.

 

“One quintant, Champion, you will bear my mark.” Shiro caught the glowing eye watching him over his shoulder and offered a bow. If Zarkon was going to mark him, it truly meant he belonged here and no where else. His lips twitched, skin itched; would that make him the Galra's bitch? As he listened to the sobs, he promised himself he'd never sound like that again. He'd worked, suffered and overcome an insane amount, but he was adamant he stronger for the most part. He'd earn his mark and maybe...maybe Keith could too. That way he'd be safer. For the most part it was a good deterrent; no one ever touched the concubines.

 

He followed behind Zarkon who dragged Arasgi by the arm to the doors. He placed a large hand against the panel and stepped out, Shiro's gaze finding the guards.  
“Tell Naja to heal the wounds, then prepare him.” He roughly shoved Arasgi in front of him, and Shiro could only imagine Zarkon's face judging by how terrified Arasgi looked. Who Naja was, he had no clue.  
“Let the others know this one needs to be reminded that it is property. Use him as an example to the others.”  
“Yes, Sire!” The guard grabbed Arasgi's wrists, yanking them behind his back as he was dragged down the hall. The cries and sobs faltered away, and Shiro didn't know why Zarkon was still watching. Eventually he returned, guiding Shiro to the desk.

 

“You did not strike.”  
“No, Sire.” Shiro glanced down. He wanted to put him in his place, like he'd had to do frequently as of late, but not the concubines – never the concubines without explicit consent. His reply was a low rumble and he watched Zarkon take his data pad, glowing eyes giving no indication as to what he was reading if he actually was. Shiro couldn't help but stare, watching his nose crinkle or noting how slowly he blinked, claws swiping and tapping away.

 

“ **You have been staring as if to ask something. Speak.”** Zarkon watched as his mind caught up. Like usual he swallowed, brow furrowed in thought.  
“ **Naja? I do not recognise the name.”  
**“ **You have met her. The small concubine. Was that all?”** He brought his fingers under Champion's chin, tilting it up to look him in the eyes. He often looked like he wished to speak, but unlike Sendak, he was not as willing to indulge answering meaningless questions.  
“ **Your bayard,”** he muttered, **“did the High Priestess make it?”  
**“ **No. It was made alongside the Black Lion.”** Zarkon summoned it back within his grasp, fragmented memories of how the bayard interacted with the Lion and Voltron flickering like phantoms in his mind.  
“ **Who...”** Champion licked his lips, **“or what created the Lions? What is Voltron? Why did the Alteans steal your Lion?”  
**“ **You ask questions you do not need to concern yourself with,”** he motioned Champion to follow as he settled down, Champion kneeling at his feet, **“but I accept you have become privy to such information; the curiosity a logical culmination of fragmented details.”  
**Champion nodded his head in response.  
“ **Alfor was responsible for their birth. Voltron is the combined form of the Lions – an entity of unimaginable power – and what I commanded as leader. Once it is returned, the universe will come to know Galran rule and order,”** he carded his hand through Champion's white strands, **“your race will see it one quintant.”  
**“ **They would resist you.”** Champion leaned into the touch, grey eyes focused on him as he spoke.  
“ **Then they will perish.”  
**“ **You outgun Earth considerably. I do not think a fleet of cruisers would even be needed.”  
**“ **Amuse me. How many would you send?”** Zarkon rubbed his clawed thumb alongside Champion's eye.  
“ **One would probably do. Maybe three in case they launch nuclear weapons, but I have a feeling the shields could withstand a nuclear blast considering the level of technology you have access to. Depends on how quickly you want to take it over.”** Champion spoke with a detachment he had not heard before.  
“ **When the quintant comes to take your home planet, you will be of value.”  
**“ **Thank you, Sire.”**

 

“ **To the reason I summoned you.”  
**Zarkon clicked his claws and Shiro moved closer, feeling numb at the thought of being anywhere near Earth, let alone hypothetical scenarios of how to take down his old home.  
“ **This time you will be on a different floor delivering a message to Commander Trugg. The usual rules and consequences surrounding tardiness applies, however there is one change to proceedings.”** The way Zarkon's lips rose brought about a sense of dread.  
“ **You will have a pursuer. Providing you reach the end point, you will not face it.”  
**“ **What is 'it', Sire?”** The laugh was a dark one.  
“ **Something I am aware you deeply fear. Now come, you must be prepared.”** He rose from his seat, pushing his hand through Shiro's hair, claws tearing through the knots.

 

-

 

“So anyway it turns out that there's a calibration issue with my hands, which explains why they have grip issues sometimes and I don't know my own strength. I thought it weird I had off-quintants, you know? But,” Hepta drummed his fingers against the table, “the Druids said they're going to have fix it for me since Haggar's so busy.”  
“Hepta,” Ulaz ran a hand through his mohawk, feeling more drained then he should, “what was so urgent you needed to see me right away?”  
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He offered him and Thace an apologetic look before shuffling forward.

 

“Two things. Firstly...the blade I sent you a photo off.” Hepta's voice was almost inaudible, which at least was good considering the topic.  
“Yes, did you tell Haggar?”  
“No – but before you say anything, there's a reason, okay?”  
“Then I would love to hear it,” he glanced at the hand that settled on his shoulder, Thace offering a soft look.  
“It lit up. The middle bit. It went all glowy when I put my hand near and then on it-”  
“ _W-What?!_ ” Ulaz and Thace spluttered at the same time, eyes wide as they looked at each other and then Hepta, who seemed to expect this response.  
“I _know_? I didn't know what to do and panicked...accidentally threw it into the ceiling. Then my friend came back and in exchange for snacks he got it down. My shoulders hurt though...he was he heavier than I thought,” he scratched the back of his neck, ears flattening.  
“Back up,” Thace rotated his wrist for emphasis, “it _glowed_?”  
“Yes. Are they meant to? It didn't when he got it down.”  
“I...have no idea.” Ulaz blinked slowly, mind buzzing with the gravity of this development.  
“I mean I don't know if I'm responsible for it now? How do you I even find this information out? Even the records of those who turned don't yield anything useful except base locations, but that was deca-phoebs ago, and judging how the Empire destroyed them,” he shrugged his shoulders, “that's a pointless avenue. I dunno why I'm telling you this, because it's not like you're going to know. Sorry, I guess cause you're both older you'd know?” Hepta offered out the packet he'd been picking from, Ulaz taking a piece of salted meat absently.

 

Never in his life had it developed this way, but this time was different from the others. He could not deny that the blades had ever made incorrect choices, however for a tick, he wondered if this one had chosen correctly. Hepta was by no means ready by his standards, but then in hindsight was he either? If it had reacted, then they would need to act. Kolivan would need to be notified; they would need his permission to start breaking cover, but they needed to know Hepta was trustworthy as well. He glanced at Thace. He would be the only one left to train him once Ulaz was gone. He couldn't afford to take Hepta with him, not with Shiro how he was, and Hepta would not be able to return to the Empire without interrogation. He settled back into the bench, arms folded across his chest.

 

“What is the second thing?”  
“You won't like this one,” Hepta bowed his head, “Kal found my notebooks and had it out with me. I couldn't...keep hiding it from her. I told her,” he narrowed his eyes at the floor, “I wanted to join them. But now she knows, and if they check her head then I'm fucked, and she's fucked, and then Laddy came home and overheard bits and now I have to tell her.” He looked up at them both, eyes watering, “clan is really important to us all cause it's all we have, and I can't lie to them both because of what they've done. Laddy said she can try and fix things, but I don't know...she...wanted to know about who I've been seeing and I told her about you both and I'm _sorry_. I said that you just listen and everything, but I've made it all such a mess and I don't know what to do any more. I don't want you to be in trouble but she's _protective_ since I came back. She's the one who helped get me in the labs, got Haggar to make my arms.” He raised them, looking between him and Thace. “I'm sorry for being such a shit friend. I feel like I've betrayed you guys when all you've done is be supportive.”

 

“You've told us, so you're not being shit, Hepta. Both Ulaz and I get that family is important, don't we?” Thace leaned back on the bench.  
“Yes,” Ulaz offered a small smile, “it is after all what I spend my leave doing.”  
“I mean is your sister unreasonable? She never gave that impression.” Thace cocked his head to the side. He was banking on Hepta to be truthful so they could prepare.  
“She's not, but after the state mum left us in by chasing after dad, she's been really careful about any perceivable threat. Like, our clan is _really_ old, and outside of this random one instance of incest between some great, great, great...okay add another five greats, grandparents that had kits, the only thing that happened was that we were defeated by another clan and subjugated. We're lucky that there's a few clans still left loyal to us even these quintants.” He offered the bag out again but neither accepted any more. “So yeah, Laddy's more protective over it because mum was, but I never knew her and Laddy told me not to worry, you know? She's taken a lot on too, so she's really over-worked. Pretty much if you tell her what she wants to hear you'll be fine, just heads up she may check your records to make sure you're safe I guess? I mean half the shit Sendak said to me makes me wonder if he did mine. It's weird, sorry.”

 

Thace blinked slowly.  
“You would do well to learn to become concise,” he imagined Kolivan, briefly, and was sure that Ulaz was having the same thoughts.  
“Well I'm off-duty right now so,” Hepta shrugged his shoulders, “I'd rather be me. Besides, you're relaxing to be around, even if Ulaz looks like he's going to strangle me sometimes.”  
“I am having flashbacks to shopping with you and Shiro...and you in my kitchen.” Thace watched his ears droop a little and chuckled at the dryness.

 

“I saw Shiro, actually. His eye whites, they're yellow, aren't they?” Hepta's words dropped the mood several degrees.  
“Yes,” Ulaz stiffened, “quintessence over-exposure. Do you know how he is?”  
“No, he was just taken by the Royal Guards. I hear stuff, you know?”  
“I imagine you do,” Ulaz glanced grimly down at his communicator, “because I am suspecting he will speak to me about whatever happens this time. Excuse me, I need to to make a call.” He moved away from the two. Thace taking stock of the young Galran before him.

 

“Thanks for giving us pre-warning.” He patted Hepta on the shoulder gently.  
“It's okay. I still feel bad. I'll tell her not to be hard on you guys.”  
“It'd be appreciated, but don't make her suspicious either. If it helps, I could perhaps come by with you? Talk to her that way?”  
“It could work? Like I'll see what happens when I talk to her properly.”  
“Well family should stick together, right?” Thace smiled and Hepta nodded with one of his own.  
“I'm lucky to have them – couldn't ask for a better one. What about you? What's your family like?” Thace resisted bursting the happy bubble considering his blood relatives, but blood meant nothing when he considered his _real_ family. Glancing up through the leaves to the ceiling, he loosened a small purr.  
“So much as we may be distant at times, I know that our bond is unbreakable. I'll die to keep my family protected a thousand times over. Ulaz is the same.”  
“Why don't you guys ever talk about them?”  
“It hurts because we miss our respective families so much.”  
“Well why not get a job closer to home?” He looked back at Hepta, head tilted to the side.  
“Perhaps one quintant.” Thace leaned forward, pinching a piece of salted meat from the bag with a grin.

 

-

 

“I told you I'm not having this discussion again! You over-stepped not only about Hepta, but Kaleska!”  
“They're gonna be the death of you at this rate, you realise that? Tell me, what's gonna happen when someone preys upon your weaknesses-”  
“Weaknesses? _Weaknesses?_ Just because you didn't get enough forehead licks growing up and turned into a sadistic bitch doesn't mean everyone's like you! You knew with me clan came first; it _always_ comes first!” Any restraint Ladnok had managed to hold crumbled to dust.  
“Real fuckin' mature, aren't you? If we're takin' shots at each other, at least I'm not some fuckin' fridge in bed, but with how fuckin' close you are with your slave, maybe you get her to fuck you-”  
“How _dare you_! How fucking _dare_ you speak about her like that! You're disgusting and I don't even know why I keep making the mistake of thinking you'll change!”  
“Oh so fuckin' sorry, I forgot you're so cold that she probably gives your bratty brother a goodnight wank when she fuckin' tucks him in to bed. Or you're all just fuckin', cause it'd explain a lot.” The sneered words were vile.  
“You're a dishonourable dreck! I hope the next time you're on a cruiser sans the Emperor, a weblum destroys your _fucking_ ship with you on board. Fuck _off_ and fuck _you_!” She hung up and threw the communicator into a pile of clothes on the opposite side of the room, snarling into the pillow she held tight against her chest. Ladnok swiped at her eyes, glancing up as the door opened to her office.

 

“Need me to go?”  
“No, Herrah,” she let her legs drop back to the ground, “you know I don't mind.” She gave him a nod of appreciation as he set a glass down.  
“Have you started sleeping in your office again?” He motioned around the room, one good eye tracking the neglect.  
“Old habits die hard I suppose.” She knew he could see through the smile she offered.  
“Jokes aside,” he took a sip of his drink, “I'm not here as moral support or counsellor, am I?”  
“No. I need your help and advice.”  
“What with?” He leaned forward.  
“I don't know the full extent yet, but starting with what I do know.” Focusing on work helped as she tilted the display screen around to him, tapping it.  
“These two Hepta's been spending a lot of time with lately, and I need to know they won't try and manipulate him, not like Sendak has.”  
“Right,” he drummed his claws on the desk, “for the clan?”  
“As always. I don't like it, but safety is paramount. Hepta's likely spoken like a dissenter, and I need to make sure they stay quiet. To what extent I don't know yet. I want to hope that Ulaz won't be an issue considering his closeness to Champion, but the Lieutenant I know next to nothing about except I've seen him a few times around Central Command and with Ulaz on rare occasions. They know each other for sure, but how much I can't say.”  
“So you want to run background checks on the quiet?”  
“Yes. I have the permissions and systems in place.” She watched him as she drank. He shifted in his seat, frown marring his face.  
“Do I ask too much?”  
“No. I just hope that they won't make your life difficult. Know my clan remains loyal regardless of what happens.”  
“The same applies,” she raised her glass and he copied, “so let us drink to unbreakable loyalties.”  
“The first genuine smile of the quintant,” he chuckled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIGHT.  
> The Sheith, Sharkon and the bad bestiality content WILL be appearing next chapter. I will give you a warning in the A/N as per for those of you who are 'no', which I can understand. It's turned into one explicit and one implied scene, but really just be on your guard.
> 
> So far for 54 I'm writing Sharkon porn and it's been fun. Here's a small piece:  
> Shiro arched his back as he felt the soft fabric fall away over his shoulders, his Emperor loosening a bass rumble of appreciation. The tongue ran stripes across his scarred chest and he couldn't remember a time he felt this good. Each lap or flick of the tongue sent new waves of heat coursing through his body that roiled in his abdomen; new shivers to wrack his body. His head slipped back with a soft moan, allowing full submission to his Emperor. Claws kneaded the flesh, masterfully finding pressure points he'd never known. He was allowing himself to be taken apart piece by piece without a care and he loved it.  
> -  
> As another note I'm going to be participating in due course in a bang for dark/horror/supernatural VLD fics and I've gotta look at allocating time to that sooner or later. I'll still write mymm, of course :) Hopefully my updating will return to something more constant!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Take care, and see you guys MUCH sooner then the last time!


	54. To Be (non)Compliant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the radio silence (unless you follow me on tumblr/twitter/chat with me on discord), but I've finally...finally finished what should have been something so much shorter. I'll be uploading two chapters today as a bit of a 'thanks for your patience', but it has been a very trying and testing set of chapters that at first I didn't know how to break apart, and I wanted to finish them off fully before I made my final decision. A big thank you to everyone who's read, and the comments last chapter - you guys rock!
> 
> This chapter has the bestiality in it. For those who may wish to avoid the section, it starts with: The yupper came down on top of him - and ends by the scene shift to Zarkon's perspective. I can promise you that there is recompense for what happens, too. We do also continue to follow dear Hepta's story, and I'm pleased you guys seem really on board with it and like where he's going.
> 
> Please enjoy, my lovely readers! Break as and when you need to! Bolded text for speaking Galran again :)

Whatever they applied to his body made his skin itch, and if felt worse between his legs. He'd been thorough with Zarkon and requested as much information as he could to plan his route, but in the back of his head he couldn't shake the impending dread. He was pre-warned; he couldn't let fear shake him into messing up and being caught by whatever they were planning. It was all too easy now, Zarkon had said. He felt his stomach contents curdle.

 

His ears pricked and he looked up, straining at the sound of heavy footfalls. It didn't sound like boots, but at least one of the sets he could hear _wore_ boots. Words, panting, growls. Shiro frowned at the floor, then up at Zarkon.  
“ **You can hear it I assume?”  
** “ **Yes, Sire.”  
** “ **Have you guessed yet?”  
** “ **It is not...Galran?”  
** “ **No,”** Zarkon glanced down at him, **“but you know it _intimately_.”  
**Shiro weighed the emphasis, and then it hit him.  
“ **Sire,”** he swallowed, **“is it a yupper?”  
** “ **I am pleased you remember. I believe it will instil you with a desire to succeed. Fear is my favoured motivator.”  
** “ **P-Providing I get to the office in time, I'm safe, right?”  
** “ **You know this. You may fight it, but do not kill.”** Zarkon flicked the capsule attached to his collar before turning. Shiro avoided it until he had to; when it's presence was within his personal space, when the creature pressed a wet nose against his bare neck. He jerked away, earning a laugh from the crowd around him.

 

He locked eyes with the small ones looking down at him. It tried to nose at him again but Zarkon held the chain hard and fast. It whined against the bonds, trying to tug itself free. Shiro took a few cautious paces back; anxiety and fear coursing through his body. He didn't need _this_. Not this stupid fucking thing. Pheromones – hormones – whatever it was called. That was it. That's what they applied. _Why do they need to keep fucking debasing me even when I comply?_ He couldn't even answer himself, wondering how exactly Sendak would feel with this.

 

“ **Your fear is notable. Do not let it consume you.”  
** “ **I learned from the arena, Sire, I don't plan on letting it.”  
** “ **Action speaks louder.”** Zarkon observed the tense frame. Champion realised now he couldn't hide in any of the rooms lest he be cornered. A reset to being on the back-foot would do to stifle any potential arrogance, and as Haggar had informed him, this would be the surest way.  
“ **You will have head-start. Five dobosh's.”  
** “ **I understand, Sire. When can I go?”** Champion moved a little further away as the yupper tugged on its leash.  
“ **Now.”** Without another word, Champion bolted.  
“ **Contact Commander Trugg. Tell her he is en route.”  
** “ **Yes, my Lord.”** The guard bowed to him before moving away. Providing that Champion didn't let himself fold, Zarkon would see that his reward be worth facing his fears.

 

-

 

Begrudgingly, five dobosh's wasn't enough of a head-start but it was _something_. Especially since guards still roamed the corridors. Fuelled by pure adrenaline, the second guard landed with a thud against the floor. He snatched up the discarded blaster and ran; distant slap of paws against metal coming ever-closer. The blasters were always set to stun during these sessions, and if all else failed the butt of them served as a good enough means to knock someone out. That would work for the guards. Sentries not so much. He expected the _thing_ would take a few shots before going down. Part of him hoped that it would take its' frustrations out on the Galra he left in his wake. That was unlikely.

 

He could hear voices. Not distant but not too close. He was at a junction. He quickly brought up the map. Left, then right. Oh. He hadn't factored this route could cut out a portion. He'd been distracted, scared.  
“ **You're the arena Champion for fuck sake. You've faced worse.”** He muttered to himself. Taking a deep breath, he ignored the words that used to soothe him. He ran. Of course the deck was stacked against him; even back when he was diagnosed on Earth it was. If this was the universe's attempt at a joke he wasn't laughing. Hell, at least Zarkon had given him the chance to defend himself.

 

He took another deep breath as he came to another intersection; he wasn't going to just rush out blindly. He could afford himself a little patience. Associate like the arena's harder opponents. Shiro's grasp tightened around the blaster as he listened out. Metal boots on metal in a rhythmic pattern. Sentries. The echo from the hallways threw him off so he crouched down against the wall and peered round the left side. Nothing, and nothing from the right. He pushed himself up and ran low to the ground straight on. The echoed whines of the _thing_ were echoes, and Shiro just kept putting one foot in front of the other. He'd need to time check soon. Zarkon gave him twenty dobosh's. He may have to go on the offensive.

 

Everything was fine until he was caught in a firefight with a pair of guards at the final intersection. He'd managed to stun them when he taunted a surrender, but it was at the cost of the _thing_ gaining distance. Shiro ran. It was less than five dobosh's away – the final straight. The long low calls and encroaching paws-on-metal grew closer, and as he was almost halfway down the corridor, office door in view, he whipped his head back and saw the thing. He didn't have time to look properly and pushed his aching muscles on further, stitch burning in his side. A stand-off would be pointless. Any distance he had would be lost. He didn't even look where he was shooting as he fired blindly behind him. He heard a yelp. One had connected. He twisted round and taking the blaster firmly in both hands, levelled a shot at it's chest. It howled as he discarded his weapon; a weight he couldn't afford any longer.

 

He was going to do it. This was happening. There was no possible way it could catch him even if it had picked itself up. The guards that stood either side of the entrance – not participants in these sessions – placed their hands against the panels. The doors opened. Safety. He dove through the opening, body striking the floor hard as he rolled to a stop. It beat crashing into a wall. He panted heavily, smirking to himself as he watched the thing bound forward. He was as safe as he could be now.

 

“ **Let the Emperor know he got here in time. _Just_.” **Trugg stalked over as he struggled up onto his knees.  
“ **Dunno why you look so pleased with yourself.”** She sneered as she grabbed him by the fringe, forcing his head back as she unclipped the capsule.  
“ **I made...it here...on time.”  
** “ **So who do you expect to stop it from coming in?”** Her sneer grew wider, Champion's eyes widening. **“Me? I'm not getting between that and you, nor do I expect my staff to risk themselves.”  
** “ **It has a collar! Can't you just stun it? The Emperor said-”  
** “ **Oh, poor _little_ Champion. Do you really think everyone's going to look out for you?” **She leaned in close, the fear scent strong now.  
“ **The Emperor _said_ -”  
**“ **Better defend yourself if you don't want to be speared on yupper dick.”** She shoved him backwards as it breached the door, panting heavily and nose twitching. She didn't owe this slave anything, and honestly? It was therapeutic to watch after the call with Ladnok. If he didn't stop it properly, not her problem.  
“ **Gather round or fuck off, free public display courtesy of our arena Champion.”** She backed over to perch on top of a desk. Either outcome wouldn't bother her right now, but reminding any slave of their position was something she did enjoy. It was him now, some Ragnar whore another quintant. Not kin, not deserving of anything other than amusement for their betters.

 

Shiro forced himself up, body tense and drawn close together as he panted. He could feel the stares on him. Gods he wished the inhibitor was off. This was wrong – unfair – he did what he was supposed to, the Emperor would have _told him_. There was never any vagueness. The yupper's eyes lit up as it padded over, tongue lolled stupidly at him. It whined again as it encroached closer into his personal space, and he felt every single self-preservation mechanism kick in. With a battle cry, Shiro punched the thing in the face.  
“ **Away!”** He caught it under the jaw with an uppercut as it reeled back, howling out in pain.  
“ **Aww, you're really going to punch someone's pet?”** She simpered.  
“ **It's. Not. Fucking. Me.”** Shiro spat as he grabbed the paws that came down to pin him – more like hands then he wanted to consider.  
“ **We'll see,”** Trugg laughed from behind, **“because everything fucks you eventually.”  
** He didn't care for her baiting as he pushed back, body resisting better then he could plan. He'd incapacitate this damn beast one way or another.

 

Champion and the yupper struggled against each other. Champion was holding his ground well enough, but his feet were starting to slip. His skin began to gloss over and it shook under the strain, breathing laboured at this point between little cracked growls and groans.  
“ **If you give up now, no one would blame you. Maybe if you spread yourself open it'll make it less painful.”  
** Champion replied with a snarl as he pressed forward. She was about to get up when his knees finally buckled under the yupper's weight. Champion may be stronger on a good quintant, but he was also exhausted.

 

The yupper came down on top of him, and Shiro only managed to avoid smashing his face into the floor. His human hand hurt and the muscles burned under his sweaty flesh. With a snap of his teeth he thrashed under the weight, rough fur brushing against his back. He dropped his body to the floor, desperately trying to wiggle out from underneath. He just had to wait until the guards got here. He could shut himself in an office – an open door not that far away. The yupper slammed a heavy hand down on his left leg, then crouched lower, arms and legs blocking his chance for escape. The short snout pressed against his naked ass and Shiro's body _stopped_. Memories and feelings of the breeding table crashed back into the forefront of his mind. All the jeers and happy snorting were muted instantaneously by phantom snarls and growls. His body could feel it happening all over again; he could feel the panic, fear and shame wash over him and he _shook_.

 

Champion choked out words in another language she didn't care for, shaking hands scrabbling against the metal floor. Some of her staff were recording, one getting a little closer then she would have.  
“ **Yupper dicks look weird. It's rubbing against his cheek, Commander.”  
** “ **If they didn't have one-track minds, I'd say feed it into his mouth.”  
** “ **You sure we're alright to record this?”  
** “ **Sendak can't do shit. He has no protections right now. For all I care you can fuck his throat while that thing eats out his rear, it's not like he really matters.”** She snorted, tilting her head at the creature happily lapping bteween the pale skin. Whatever they applied was more then pheromones to have it doing that. In a roundabout way, this was Sendak's fault. His actions caused Hepta to act out, which caused her and Ladnok to argue and split. This thing meant something to him, so the only one he could be pissed off with was himself. Granted the whole point in using slaves as anything more then objects was pointless to her to begin with; this entire situation was a farce. The Empire may be sitting pretty, but they didn't need gladiators and Haggar's experiments to fight for them. They were supposed to be a warrior race, not chained to a desk, grounded, and unable to do shit.

 

The cessation of the rhythmic wet press between his ass cheeks roused him. He wasn't completely lost to the recesses of his head _yet_. The weight above him shifted, and that was enough of a reason to move. Shiro's feet scrabbled over the floor. He forced himself up into some half-stumble, half-stilted lurch forward. Away. Just away. He didn't know how far he got before a heavy weight struck him in the back. With a yell, Shiro was slammed hard back to the floor, head striking the metal with enough force his vision blurred and darkened. It wasn't until a sharp tearing pain shot through his right shoulder that his mouth made noises he couldn't register correctly; focus entirely on tearing flesh and then something clamping hard around the bone. He heard teeth on bone. His body was moved; the chill between his thighs lost as something hot stabbed there. He didn't know what he said. Something cut through the skin above his hip. More of his body felt hot and wet.

 

Another high noise was ripped from Shiro's throat when the hotness stabbed straight into him. There wasn't as much resistance. He'd been loosened earlier. That was why that had been ordered, then. It still hurt as it pushed against his sensitive insides. A satisfied growl rumbled near his ear, a short-furred hand braced the ground in front of him.

 

Then it started. The snap of the things hips drove it in deeper. Shiro felt dizzy and sick, head pounding in the same way his innards were. He was vaguely aware of rough fur against his bare skin. His eyes were wet. _Why?_ The pain in his shoulder grew stronger, almost like whatever had him was trying to crack the bone. He absently focused on the furred hand, vaguely registering his body shifting and claws clutching his abdomen.

 

Something grabbed his hair, and he was forced to look up through smudged vision.  
“ **Shouldn't you entertain more? You're not a human, you're a slave. Perform, stop wasting that pretty face and whine like a bitch in heat.”  
** Trugg dropped his head back down, the furred thing striking harder into him. He felt sicker when he realised his body had reacted against his permission. Sick heat and shame. Fragments of other feelings dissolved away. The pain in his shoulder left for a tick to be replaced by loud grunts and snorts besides his cheek; a tongue ran across the wound, then over his neck as its hips ground against his skin. They became erratic, then slowed as something flooded inside him. Shiro let whatever it was move his body. It smelt like an animal. It was hard to say any more what was or wasn't alien or animal; so much fur and scales and other textures. It made a pleased whimper in his ear before a wet press moved from the base of his neck up through his hair. He didn't realise how tightly his jaw was clenched. Why couldn't his body shut down again?

 

-

 

He had thought that after Arasgi's misconduct and seeing what would be pursuing him this quintant, Champion would have made critical mistakes. Zarkon was pleased he had channelled his fear into completing on time, and for meeting his expectations, Champion would be rewarded. From the report he had received from his medical officer, debriefs and trusted individuals would assist keeping him stable. If it would prevent having to finance Haggar and her obsession with trying to clone things, he would prefer doing this even if he thought it a waste of time. He'd also came along to manage the frustrated yupper; preferring to trust himself over some of his staffing who enjoyed Champion's curious body more than they should.

 

Zarkon's mood soured immediately as he stepped into the office, gaze landing on the beast that was languidly rutting against Champion. Those present shrunk at his presence, cowing as he tossed the beast with ease halfway across the room. Champion's side was torn, but his shoulder had been ripped open; the muscle damaged and a shimmer of bone. He noted the stain between his thighs, then the bruise on his forehead. He glanced over his shoulder at his guards.  
“ **Summon Haggar _immediately_ and confine that beast _now_.” **One nodded and bolted from the room as he hoisted Champion and tried to make him stand. His legs gave way. Zarkon caught him before he hit the floor. With a low snarl, he detached the cape from his pauldrons and tied it round the wounds. It would assist Haggar. Champion muttered something in tongues, not looking at him, as his body slipped down the wall to the ground.

 

“ **Where is Commander Trugg?”  
** “ **H-Her office, Sire!”  
** Zarkon paced over to the guard having issue subduing the yupper. Grabbing it by the ear, he dragged it to the side office, tossing it in.  
“ **Keep it in there.”** He stalked through the corridors, pressing his palm against her door.

 

“ **I refused to risk my staff or myself with that thing.”** She rose from her seat, gaze hard as she moved round the desk. **“I told Champion to deal with it.”  
** “ **You disobeyed a direct order. Champion completed his task as instructed, and now he is damaged.”  
** “ **Well that's his fault then, Sire. If it's mentally weak then just get rid of it. Sendak ruined his stupid slave by himself anyway, so why do we all have to pick up the pieces of his mistakes?”** Her voice rose, fists clenched at her sides. **“It's bovas-shit! You always play favourites with him. Ranveig was a bastard but he was still of use-”  
** “ **Enough.”** Zarkon moved with precision, lifting her into the air by her throat. **“Ranveig was a cancer to High Command, and if you are not careful, you will end up the same _if_ Haggar does not see to your end first. In your inability to follow simple orders, you have let Haggar's subject take unnecessary damage. Your ineptitude will cost you.” **He brought her down against the desk, fingers tightening around her throat. **“Sendak has been my trusted sword and shield for longer than you have been alive. His loyalty is absolute. Do not make me question yours, _Commander_.” **He released her throat and turned on his heel. **“You will follow. You will accept the consequences of your decision. I sense Haggar has arrived.”**

 

He arrived to find Haggar removing her hands from Champion's forehead, a Druid in her company. She opened her eyes and looked at him.  
“ **I have checked the subject's memory.”  
** “ **Your verdict?”** Zarkon's lips twitched as she canvassed the room. He could sense the malice emanating from her, and soon that became visible as her dark magic cracked in the air.  
“ **There is no one innocent in this room,”** her voice rasped, **“and if the Commander believes that my subject is nothing but mere entertainment, then she will be mine until the subject is healed.”** She tilted her head to the Druid.  
“ **Take it to the labs and retrieve the muscle samples from my personal one. Summon his medical officer and whoever is capable. Return when it is complete.”** The Druid nodded and moved towards Champion, scooping him up and vanishing instantaneously.

 

The temperature in the room dropped as Haggar took stock of the space. She paused at the smeared blood over the floor. Zarkon crossed his arms across his chest; she was calculating and everyone here knew it.  
“ **The beast is here?”  
** “ **In there.”** Zarkon inclined his head towards the door, mirroring the way her lips curled upwards. They may have their issues, but her cruelty when provoked enough _almost_ put his to shame.  
“ **What bovas-shit have you got up your sleeve? Sire, you can't _let her_ do what I'm thinking? What type of joke is this? It's excessive!” **He was waiting for Trugg's outburst.  
“ **I do not see it as excessive. Haggar has my permission to punish you as she sees fit.”** He didn't look at her as he answered, enjoying the rising fear in the room from the occupants.  
“ **Lex talionis, Commander,”** Haggar stopped in front of the door where the yupper was confined.  
“ **And what's that supposed to mean?”** Trugg took a step forward, her hackles up in preparation for a fight.  
“ **A punishment of retaliation,”** she drawled as she opened the door, **“they resemble the offence committed.”** She watched the beast pad into the room, shrinking away from Zarkon as it spied him.

 

The room fell into panic. Cries and pleads for mercy fell upon her disinterested ears. She moved besides Zarkon, letting him place a hand upon her shoulder; a means for him not to fall within the illusion she cast.  
“ **In your bid for entertainment, I will let you relive my subject's memories of it while _your_ suffering entertains _me_.” **Her eyes narrowed as she raised her clawed hands, magic crackling to life around the room. The beast succumbed first, knocking Trugg to the floor. Zarkon's low rumble of laughter from her side spurred her on, focusing her to create a truly nightmarish illusion for these drecks who dared disrespect her and her work. She moved her hands, purple energy coiling around flesh before pulling taut. She sniffed, ignoring the twinge in her forehead, the blood trickling from her nose.

 

-

 

“Thanks for doing my reference. I just need Herrah's now.” Hepta smiled up at Ulaz, who offered a small nod.  
“You have come a long way with work. I recall meeting such a passive and awkward officer, but here you are; a curious and,” he paused, “talkative technician-in-the-making.” He offered Hepta a toothy grin, the younger Galra snorting.  
“I'm just a gifted orator. Negotiated my way outta trouble earlier. But thank you, oh great mentor, for teaching me,” he butted his head against Ulaz's arm, small laugh petering out at the Druid that materialised from thin air with a bundle in its arms. It turned to them both, moving swiftly forwards. The bundle smelt of the Emperor, blood, something else and-

 

“Do not tell me that is Champion in your arms.”  
“It requires immediate attention. I will be back to assist momentarily. Both of you, go now.” It passed the bundle to Ulaz, Shiro's body dead weight in his arms. Ulaz ran; his plans to check the blade with Hepta and some supplies to assist with the Rudiarius's memories would have to wait. He vaguely heard Hepta asking about her, urgency replacing his jovial demeanour just ticks ago.

 

He shifted Shiro, slamming his hand against the panel as he rushed into the room.  
“What have they done to you this time?” He muttered, gut knotting as he set his body down and started to unravel the fabric. The knot became taut when he could see the damage, not clear until he'd rolled him over.  
“For _fuck_ sake.” Ulaz slammed his palms to the table, eyes narrowed and hackles rising. He redirected; he needed to prepare him.

 

Hepta and another technician rushed in to assist. The Druid reappeared holding what was muscle samples on further inspection. A quintessence drip and sedative had been applied. Someone fitted Shiro with a breathing mask.  
“What caused the damage?” Ulaz didn't look up as he attended the torn shoulder.  
“A yupper.” The matter-of-fact reply had him glare at the bone.  
“I see. Did he fail a test?”  
“No. The High Priestess is with the Emperor at present delivering her retaliation. I am to report back to her when he is healed.”  
“This will take vargas.”  
“She is aware.” There was the hint of malicious glee in the tone of the Druid that had Ulaz momentarily pause.  
“I see. Who authorised _this,_ ” he motioned with the scalpel at Shiro's body; Hepta cleaning the grime away between his legs.  
“Commander Trugg.”

 

-

 

“ **The procedure was successful, High Priestess. The subject has been placed in the tank in your lab.”** The Druid briefly watched the beast drive a sobbing officer into the ground.  
“ **Keep watch over it until my return.”** She muttered.  
“ **I would like Champion sent to my quarters once he is healed,”** the Emperor glanced down at her, **“for he is to be rewarded for his efforts.”  
** “ **Fine, but do not return him to me damaged. I am concerned about how this will affect his reconditioning as it stands.”  
** “ **I do not intend to.”** The Emperor almost sounded amused.  
“ **Then by your leave.”** With a bow, the Druid vanished.

 

-

 

“You're back late-” Ladnok pushed herself from the chair when Hepta and Kaleska entered. Hepta rushed off to the kitchen, bags and all, while Kaleska grunted in pain as Ladnok grabbed her hand.  
“What in _Diabazaal_ happened to you?”  
“Witch's fucked up experimen', ya know?”  
“Stop trying to make light of this. What did she make you do?”  
“Had ta test it's chest plate. Couldn't den' the bastard,” she spat, motioning to her arm in the sling.  
“Let me get quintessence.”  
“I ain't takin' any more've tha' stuff. Lemme heal natural. _Please._ ”  
“I...” Ladnok stared at her battered body, “of course. Sorry.”  
“Hey, no apologisin'. Jus' happy ya botha.” Kaleska rumbled as Ladnok helped her sit.  
“Do you need me to pull you?”  
“Lemme continue ma duties, I ain't dead yet. 'Sides, we got more impor'ant shit ta talk abou'.” Her face darkened for a tick, Ladnok not entirely certain what was going on. Hepta came back in with a mug that he handed to Kaleska, and settled besides her, lips a tight line as he stared at the floor.

 

“If you ever date Trugg again, I **will** disown you.” He glared up at Laddy, eyes fierce.  
“I don't-”  
“No, listen,” his gaze hardened, “she ignored the Emperor's orders about Shiro. She let a yupper fuck him up so bad there was bone on show, Laddy. _Bone_. I had to help clean him up, and I'm not gonna lie here, but if Haggar's done what I think the Druid was implying, she deserves every _fucking tick of it._ ”  
“Define 'fuck him up'?”  
“She let a yupper fuck him. Out of spite. I mean it's _her_.” He growled, leaning a little closer to Kal. Laddy blinked slowly at him, settling down herself.

 

“We argued earlier,” she started, “and she said some really fucked up shit over the call,” she brought her hand to her mouth, “I...I might have indirectly caused this.”  
“No!” Hepta barked, hackles up, “ _she_ made the decision to be a massive bitch! She's _always_ been one! There's no fuckin' reason, you know? None! He's my friend, Laddy, he's my small furless friend, and _even though_ he can probably kill me, I want to protect him and keep him safe. To me; like Ulaz and Thace, they feel like clan. Adopted clan. I'm adopting them all now. Ulaz has a way that he may be able to help Kal's memories, and I'm sorry, but _why_ would he offer to help out if he was gonna give us up? He's just as pissed off with the Empire as I am!” He brought himself back in, taking a deep breath, “I'm gonna be honest 'cause right now I don't care enough, but fuck the Empire. I wanna join the Blade of Marmora. Kal found my notebooks – I've been reading up on all the cover-ups. I used your credentials a bit to look into stuff on the quiet. I'm being careful to cover my tracks. Earlier as well, in the labs, I found the blade and it glowed and I dunno what that means at all.” It felt easier just letting this come out, but the deafening silence around him gave him cause for concern. “Look. I dunno if you can fix this or what, Laddy, but I've made my choice. The Blades are looking to be the only viable option right now to make anything happen. I wanna change things, make it better for Kal and Shiro and everyone else who's made to suffer. So,” he leaned forward, metal fingers dug into his legs to stop the shaking, “what's the plan, leader?”  
“Bring me up to date on everything that has happened, as we discussed. I need all the information I can get.” She watched him nod and settle back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you have Haggar and Zarkon on side, I guess that's good, right? Right?
> 
> Haggar is possibly one of the most fun characters to write in this at times ngl.
> 
> But, I hope you're ready for chapter 55! I'll be uploading straight after posting this one!


	55. To Protect (Your Assets)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final round, haha. If you're ploughing through, then I thank you for doing so! If you had a break, I really don't blame you either.
> 
> YOU GET THE SHARKON SMUT THIS CHAPTER, and GODS I am proud of myself for it. You also get some Zarkon/Sendak/Shiro, but I'll let you see how that pans out :) More Hepta and his plot too, and good old Galra worldbuilding because I'm seriously enjoying this bit in prep for part two. Sadly though it is yet again another heavy chapter. You may start having some conflict around Shiro and Sendak, and if you do I'm doing my job right irrespective of my actual stance on what happens. This has been a big block trying to write through, honestly, because I wanted to get it just right.
> 
> There is a single softer Sheith moment, but due to how all this has panned out I couldn't do (yet) what I planned. I will give you imagination porn, god fucking damn it.
> 
> Paragraphs in italics later for reality shift.

“You gone and woke Champion up!”  
“It was your prodding!”  
Shiro blinked up at the two aliens peering curiously down at him. Just as quickly as he bolted up, they jerked away.  
“Whoa! We're sorry, Champion, we didn't mean to disturb you!”  
“S'alright,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “where is this place?” He drank in the soft lighting, a far cry from the usual violet-whites and greens. Sheer fabrics hung around the room, filled with plush furnishings. He realised he'd been sleeping on an unnecessarily huge bed; far too much room for just the three of them.  
“The in-training concubines quarters. We don't get to leave for a deca-phoeb or unless the Emperor is pleased with our performance.” He looked at the alien to his left, noting a pair of bright amethyst eyes and yellow sclera staring back. Her skin more blue than purple.  
“Galra?”  
“Half,” She answered, the pointed to other alien, “he's a Drayconian.”  
Shiro turned his head with a frown; eyes widening as he noted the dragonish features, a small set of vestigial wings and scaled tail twitching.  
“Serkdra, Azea – you're their kind?”  
“Yeah,” his face fell, “I heard about the arena. I'm not surprised, but at least they're both dead now. It's better that way.” His features were sombre as he toyed with the sheets. “I just wished I could've repaid my life debt to Azea-”  
“He's been pining after her,” the half-Galra added, the Drayconian shooting her an irritated glare.

 

“So why am I here? The last thing I remember was...” he paused, snapping a hand up to his shoulder. It was sore and the skin was raised.  
“What did they...?”  
“It looks like a skin graft,” the woman gently withdrew his hand, “we heard that you had two pretty bad bites, and your side there looks raw. They fixed you up and brought you here. You've been out for maybe...five vargas just sleeping.”  
“You're also here at the Emperor's request, Champion. He told us you did really well, so he's going to reward you.” The Drayconian's forest-green eyes sparkled, and like him, Shiro was imagining what exactly Zarkon could do at this point to offset the self-loathing and disgust of what was now yester-quintants' events.  
“Hayatae, go let the guards know Champion's awake and that we'll need food, water, and fresh clothing.”  
“Gotcha.” With that, he shuffled off the bed, scurrying away out the door.

 

“You've probably heard shit about half-Galra.” She studied him carefully.  
“Plenty of racist shit, yeah. I'm,” he glanced awkwardly at the sheets, “surprised the Emperor has you here.”  
“I'm his guilty pleasure, you could say. My parents are long dead – father an ex-Comamnder.”  
“Would it be safe to guess you're only here because your dad was loyal?”  
“He was until he met my mother. They were going to try run off, as you can see,” she motioned to herself, “they didn't get very far.”  
“I keep being told I have to hate people like you and I can't, unless you don't comply but even then that's on an individual basis.” He brought his legs up under his chin, watching her carefully. She gave a half-laugh, dropping back into the sheets.  
“There're some half-Galra who'll do anything to survive, some who reject one of their heritages, others who embrace both, and others still that accept their lots. Me? I may get smacked about, spat on, stamped on, beaten and lived here for nearly three-hundred deca-phoebs, but I'd rather be here then out there where it's unsafe. The lifespan of a 'halfbreed whore' is maybe ten deca-phoebs? Or so I hear. Here I want for nothing, so it's a fair compromise in my eyes. You compromised too?”

 

“Yeah. If yester-quintant hadn't happened, I'd agree to the safety thing. I miss my collar, being with Sendak.” He brushed his flesh hand over his neck.  
“Heard about that too. Emperor was pissed, said he's on his penultimate chance now.”  
“What do you mean?” Shiro frowned at her; that couldn't be right, this was Sendak she was talking about.  
“Oh?” She glanced at the ceiling, “if he messes up with you or in general any more, the Emperor will consider him disposable. It's weird, because Sendak got another reminder,” she motioned to her back, “but maybe he's just being hard again to get his mind refocused. You should hope it's that, 'cause I'm guessing Haggar would have you if Sendak died, providing they didn't just kill you straight up. Maybe if you're lucky you'll end up here – you're very pretty with all your scars.”  
Shiro shivered at her casual tone, somewhat relieved when Hayatae returned with something bundled in his arms.

 

-

 

The guard flashed a knowing smile as Shiro moved into the Emperor's quarters. The door clicked shut behind him and with one final check-over, he smoothed the see-through patterned fabric down and moved through to the main living quarters. He found Zarkon sat waiting, face impassive. He clicked his claws, and Shiro padded over to settle between his legs. Clawed fingers brushed against his cheek, moving slowly up and down his jawline before pushing back into his hair.  
“The marks have been covered. Your shoulder?”  
“Sore, Sire.”  
“Haggar saw to their punishment herself.”  
“She punished them?” Shiro brought his eyes up, confused that her of all people could even have his back.  
“My orders are absolute, and the result has caused Haggar further delay. Doing so damages your reconditioning,” Zarkon answered simply, running a finger over his lips, “it breeds confusion and disorder in your already fragile mind,” his voice was low as he leaned forward, rubbing his thumb from the bruise on Shiro's temple through the smokey eye shadow, “and you have been meeting my expectations without fail as of late, Champion.” Shiro melted into the touch at such praise, lips parting for the finger that slipped inside.

 

Zarkon hoisted him into his lap, inserting his thumb into Shiro's mouth so his fingers could rub against his jaw and skull, while he dragged the other hand over the exposed skin, coming to rest at the small of his back, lazily tracing patterns. There was none of the usual roughness that Shiro was used to, but from the firmness of Zarkons movements, and perhaps from all the stress and desire for good treatment, Shiro felt his inhibitions crumble away. His muscles relaxed, soft gasps escaping around the digit in his mouth. Shiro hissed when he tried to apply too much pressure to the right shoulder muscle, Zarkon stilling for a tick.  
“I will have Haggar fix this. Muscle layering may be more suitable.” He removed the thumb and ran it over Shiro's bottom lip.  
“Thank you for showing me kindness, Sire.” He muttered, eyes heavy and feeling tired already. Zarkon merely chuckled, slipping two fingers back into Shiro's unyielding mouth.

 

Champion's tongue brushed between his fingers, swirling lazy patterns, as Zarkon continued to trace his claws against the skin. Every reward session had seen him relinquish control to Zarkon at a faster rate, and no one would disrupt that. He pulled Champion against his chest, removing his fingers again, and moved towards the bed. Zarkon settled with his back against the headboard, hands moving Champion's legs around his waist.  
“Hold.” With one hand holding his rear and the other splayed out supporting the base of his skull, he leaned forward, tongue brushing over the pierced nipple. Champion tensed from the sensation for a tick, quiet moan escaping his lips. He alternated between the two pierced nubs, earning more moans and shudders from the pliant body in his claws.

 

Shiro arched his back further as he felt the soft fabric fall away over his shoulders, his Emperor loosening a bass rumble of appreciation. The tongue ran stripes across his scarred chest and he couldn't remember a time he felt this good. Each lap or flick of the tongue sent new waves of heat coursing through his body that roiled in his abdomen; new shivers to shake his core. His head slipped back with a low moan, allowing full submission to his Emperor. Claws kneaded the flesh, masterfully finding pressure points he'd never known. He was allowing himself to be taken apart piece by piece without a care, and he _loved_ it.

 

He was repositioned, tongue trailing down his stomach. Teeth grazed against his skin; teasing pain he knew all too well, but it never came. The Emperor's grip tightened against his ass; the pads of his fingers pressing, kneading at his skin. He wasn't lying when he said he was going to reward Shiro. He couldn't help as his body jerked under the strong hold, the Emperor's breath hot against his skin. The light fabric around his hips seemed too constricting. Shiro pushed his fingers between the loops, but Zarkon bat his hands away.  
“Patience,” he lapped at Shiro's nipple, “your arousal is known.”  
“ _Please, Sire_.” He pleaded, voice catching at the glancing press of teeth into a rolling moan.

 

Zarkon laid Champion out into the sheets, claws hooking into the loops to tease the fabric away until he lay exposed, red-faced and gently panting beneath him. He spread his thighs wide, lightly dragging his claws against the skin. Champion whined as he raised his hips, biting metal fingers to stifle his noises. He jerked again when Zarkon tugged at the piercing, moving his fingers down to swipe at the beaded precome. He rubbed it between his fingers, smoothing them against Champion's mouth. Champion licked them clean.  
“Good boy.”  
“Let me please you, Sire,” he pushed himself up to his knees, running his hands from Zarkons hips to his collar bone, pupils round and desperate to satisfy.  
“Very well, Champion. Prepare yourself with that,” he pointed to the bottle on the side as he settled back. Champion took the bottle and brought himself into position; ass raised, face-down in the sheets for Zarkon's viewing pleasure. With oil-slicked metal fingers, he started stretching himself open, his stuttered curses and incoherent requests a commonality when arousal overtook his mind.

 

The mattress had shifted for a few ticks until the Emperor took him by the ankles and dragged him backwards, legs pushed wide. Shiro twisted himself round, catching the hint of a cocky smirk. He jerked at the cold press against his entrance.  
“The oil.”  
Shiro passed it to him; eager with anticipation as Zarkon dripped it along the curve of his spine, each splatter against his skin coaxing his body to shudder. When the contents ran down between his ass cheeks, the stimulation alone made Shiro moan out, bucking his hips at _how good_ it felt. He swiped the drool from his mouth, eyes struggling to remain on the Emperor as the cold press rotated between his cheeks, catching and pressing at his rim. His cock ached for release, and the burning desire only intensified when he felt the contents of the bottle emptied inside him. The moan pitched as he twitched forward, fingers curling into the sheets tightly. His toes curled as the toy eased in, Zarkon's rumble of amusement felt in the pit of his belly.

 

Shiro rolled his hips in time with the shallow thrusts of the toy that struck deep. The stretch from the girth welcome if it was a forerunner for the Emperor himself. Zarkon's hand pressed firmly at the top of his spine and worked circles down the length, rubbing the oil deep into his skin. Shiro moaned high as he arched in and away from the touch; every movement shifting the toy subtly, stimulating different nerves and places.  
“S-Sire,” he managed to crack out, shaky gaze on his Emperor, “ _please_.”  
“In time.” For emphasis the toy pushed deeper, making Shiro yelp out in pleasure.  
“ _Fuck_. T-Thank you, Sire.” He bit into his fingers, eyes rolling back as he fell apart under Zarkon. His cock hung heavy and untouched between his legs, desperate for stimulation even if he could feel the precome bleeding out.

 

When the toy was removed, Shiro was hauled up, back flush against the Emperor's broad chest.  
“You know what to do.” The dark timbre made him shiver. He could already feel the press of the tip between his legs and Shiro shook as he brought a hand around the base, shifting his hips to line him up. As he felt the point of the head, he lowered himself down inch-by-sensitive-inch, panting out moans and desperate pleas to the point his eyes prickled from sheer need. One clawed hand gripped his hip, the other holding his neck, a firm press there but not too suffocating. His flesh hand gripped the Emperor's wrist around his hip and the other grasped at his forearm to brace himself. With a small groan, he pushed his body up and let himself slip further down the Emperor's cock, building a steady rhythm of rise and fall.

 

Champion's moans increased in tempo as he worked himself along the length, pleas of desperation spurring himself to take more of Zarkon inside. Champion's hot and oil-slick insides switched between relaxing and gripping him tight. His hold around Champion's throat tightened, the soft chokes pleasing to his ears. After yester-quintants' incident, he would allow himself to take his time with Champion. Zarkon dug his claws into his hips, teeth pressed against his neck as he drove in harder.

 

“C-Close, Sire!”  
“So soon?” Zarkon thrust sharply in, his prostate struck so hard he could see stars.  
“P-Please, Sire! Let me come, _p-please_!” He ground himself down, choked screams of pleasure pushing Zarkon closer himself. He dropped Champion back into the sheets, ass still raised and hand around his throat. He palmed Champion's cock.  
“After I have finished.”  
Champion shivered and moaned, thrusting back against him with desperation. Zarkon purred in amusement, tightening his hold on Champion as he worked his way through his orgasm.

 

Cracked whines escaped his lips as his Emperor came hard. It was like his eyes rolled back in his head, spots of light dancing across his vision. He could feel the drool run from the corner of his mouth, and tried to wipe it away. The Emperor caught his hands, and with a husky growl, pinned them above Shiro's head as one large hand returned to his cock, toying with the piercing as he stroked Shiro's length.  
“I trust this reward pleased you.”  
“Thank you, Sire.” Shiro answered as he tried to thrust into his hand. Arasgi was right about the bitch in heat comment as he bit his bottom lip, then the sheets as he came. The Emperor kept going, milking him for whatever he had. He was left panting like he'd spent an entire quintant in the arena as his body gave out, opening his mouth to clean the Emperor's fingers in a post-coital haze.

 

“You will be at my side this quintant as my loyal _kragna_ ,” Zarkon started, removing his hand to brush the hair back across his head, admiring the smudged eye shadow, “you will thank Haggar for this reprieve.”  
Champion nodded slowly, his eyes faltering as if to sleep. Zarkon glanced over the body; a sheen of sweat and oil covered his slowly panting form. With a grunt, he hoisted Champion over his shoulder and moved towards the bathroom. He would summon Naja and the other concubines to see to Champion.

 

“Permission to speak, Emperor?”  
“Granted.” He set Champion down on a towel.  
“I'm sorry for killing Yastara. It wasn't my place.” He glanced down into his hands, balling his fists together with a soft click of his tongue.  
“It was not. They acted without my consent, but would have met the same fate.”  
“Will I meet the same end?”  
“No, unless you provide me reason. You have worth now.” Zarkon made to move away.  
“So what is my punishment for it?” He stopped and exhaled, tilting his head back to Champion.  
“It is compensation that I seek,” he paced back over, bringing his head up as he leaned down, “and with how your body bends to my will, touch, and voice; how your mind surrenders unquestioning,” he leaned closer, inches away from Champion's watchful eyes, “you are slowly repaying this life-debt to me.” He pulled away and moved once again towards the door. “Consider yourself an unofficial concubine for taking mine. Regardless of who owns you, know your ties to me run deeper then before.” With that he left.

 

-

 

There was still pain, so he really wasn't making this up. Shiro patted the concubine's shoulder and motioned towards the bath where Zarkon and the others relaxed. Naja, who he'd made the mistake of calling by her name, was sat conversing with Zarkon is his lap. Except for the one large scar they all carried; their skin, fur, or scales was unblemished in comparison. It wasn't that he was ashamed of them, but as he traced the patch of almost-healed skin from yester-quintant, some scars weren't as equal as others; some were dirty reminders and tainted him. How _any one_ willingly touched him after everything was beyond him.

 

A hand tugged at his wrist, and Shiro let himself be pulled along into the water, eyes tracing the curve of the scarring from up close. He brushed his fingers across the scar tissue, tilting his head to the side.  
“Speak, Champion.” He glanced to his Emperor, lazily stroking the horns of one concubine resting against his chest with a small grin on her lips. Shiro nodded as he was pulled between two concubine's that kind of looked familiar.  
“I know the Commander and Lieutenant Haxus bear your mark, but does that mean something different for Galrans and slaves like us?” He tensed uncertain at the small looks and giggles, and even Zarkon's lips twitched for a tick into the ghost of a smirk.  
“In all cases it is a reminder you are property,” Zarkon brought the concubine into his lap, petting her head as he spoke, “but consider yourself and Sendak in a similar situation.”  
“He owes you a life-debt?”  
“Not in the same way you do. He offered himself: mind, body, and soul to serve me,” he leaned back, letting the concubine kiss at his neck, “his loyalty to me is unyielding – strengthened by my mentorship. When Voltron is mine, I will honour his loyalty by making him my Red Paladin. Providing he does not let himself fall to distractions.” At this his gaze hardened on Shiro.  
“After augmentation is finished, I shouldn't be, Sire.”  
“Then continue to challenge my preconceptions.”

 

-

 

Kaleska had dropped out early when Hepta started explaining everything. Ladnok had wanted to at points, but she owed him for his honesty. They'd poured together over his notes; more then she had expected. She'd heard him speak his convictions, spit his fury, and sob as he relived his trauma. He was tired; she was drained, and the two sat wrapped in each others' arms on the sofa.

 

“I'm proud of you.” She mumbled, nuzzling the top of his head.  
“For what?”  
“Being brave enough to be honest with us. I – we – get it now.”  
“I don't know what to do, Laddy. I'm sorry.” He sat up, scrubbing at his eyes.  
“You've given me something difficult to decide, but,” she licked her lips, “it will just be like when I went to our allies about cementing their allegiances.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“There was some...hesitance at first about my strength,” she brought her legs up, “they didn't think I was ready to lead the clan, and I almost lost backing. But,” and she smiled in remembrance, “after proving myself through combat, they're still here and loyal as ever. I've a good standing if a Kral Zera is ever hosted in our lifetimes.”  
“Why'd you never tell me that?” He leaned forwards, ears twitching.  
“It's always been for me to worry about, but I think it's time to let you in. Besides, after she went quintessence-mad, I needed to prove I wasn't like her. She'd caused a few rifts that I needed to seal.” She ruffled the top of his head, gaze softening. “So I ask you not to worry about putting me out, because the Emperor would truly have us slaughtered on my 'conspiring' alone.”  
“Trugg doesn't know, does she?”  
“Of course not. Her clan was always loyal to his.” She rose from the sofa and took a data pad, motioning him to follow.

 

She moved through the archway of the atrium into the dimly lit room, removing her axe from the wall.  
“Do you know how old this is?”  
“Old,” Hepta nudged into her, “it was a gift wasn't it?”  
“No. This,” she slammed the handle into the floor, “is a fifteen-thousand deca-phoeb old reminder of what happens when your clan sells itself for safety and protection.”  
“Wasn't that after we were subjugated?”  
“Yes, and can you guess _who_ se clan our ancestors sold us to?”  
“The Emperor's?”  
“No,” her lips twitched, “Sendak's.”  
“Wait! I thought...oh _for fuck sake, Laddy!_ ” He hissed, ears flattening as his lips curled back, “next you're tell me we're rela- oh _Ancients,_ how related are we?”  
“Not by much. Time and genetics are muddied.”  
“Does he know?”  
“Likely. I don't tell you to make you feel like crap,” she glanced at the axe in her hand, blade sharp as ever, “but what I'm trying to say is loyalties and allegiances change over time. His ancestors did away with our oppressors but at a steep cost. Truth gets buried and repurposed, as you've noticed. Our clan history is like that too, but unlike other clans, we retained ours – good and bad. I think it's time I let you see that.”  
“I'm not going to find out we have some relative who's secretly with the Blade of Marmora, am I?”  
“No. Now follow, let me show you the rest of it. Grab those books there.” Ladnok moved again, Hepta following after quickly.

 

“Why're we at mum's room?” She caught Hepta's gaze before she opened the door; a musty, old smell hitting her nose.  
“This is where the journals are. C'mon, we've got some reading to do.”  
“I don't understand what this has to do with everything?” Hepta cautiously entered the room, moving his head from side to side. Ladnok paused at the shelves, hand hovering over a battered book spine.  
“I need you to realise what myself and our ancestors have done to keep this clan safe from harm, and if I'm to be confident in your resolve and you understand the gravity of your words, I need you to learn the history that I guard. Kaleska can know _nothing_ of what we speak of here, understand?” She moved to him, taking his shoulders tightly in her claws.  
“No matter what way this goes, Hepta, so long as you don't betray the clan I will support you with what I can.” His eyes hardened as the weight of her seriousness caught up.  
“I understand.”

 

-

 

The Emperor's claws tickled against him as they ran over the skin on his back. He'd been taken to some meetings again, the one with the witch strange when the Emperor led her from the room after tilting her head back. He'd heard something about blood and exertion, but his attention had remained on the remaining commanders in the room. Now they were sat in the throne room again, and he felt relaxed. The Emperor had told him he'd been a good _kragna_ , and right now that was the most important thing in his head.

 

“Your twitches amuse me, _kragna._ There is a final meeting – closed – and then you will return to my chambers.”  
Shiro offered a soft whine, nudging against his Emperor's thigh as he was set down. With a click of his claws, he settled on the cold floor, the soft clink of the chain catching his ears as he kept his head pointed forward.  
“You will remain in this position unless instructed otherwise. Do you understand, _kragna_?”  
Shiro dipped his head in agreement. He wouldn't budge; he was a good _kragna_ , he would keep the quintant a good one.

 

His grip on the leash tightened as the doors opened, revealing Sendak at the far end. Zarkon kept it taut as he watched him approach, gaze trained on his old pupil as he came to a stand and bowed.  
“Report, Commander Sendak.”  
“We recently captured some rogue forces from Solaris Alpha. I can confirm with certainty that Ozar has been recruiting the unaligned rebel factions, and that the Blade of Marmora _is_ in possession of the Red Lion. Their base and other details, however, has been impossible to extrapolate. Memory-altering or erasing drugs have been used.”  
“It is possible they were en route – receiving direction through relays? The Druids have not been able to create a complete picture?” Zarkon's grip on the chain tightened, _kragna_ shifting backwards with an almost inaudible choke.  
“No, but that is a possibility. I will have the ships checked. The Driuids have confirmed the composition that remained in their systems has similarities to the one used on the agent we had in holding.”  
“Likely the Blade of Marmora. What of the rebels?”  
“With how much the Druids tore their minds apart,” Sendak offered a cold laugh, “they cannot stand.”  
“Then have them disposed of. Broadcast it to Solaris Alpha and Beta to remind them what happens to those who try and disrupt peace. Tell the local Commander to enforce stricter measures, control the flow of information coming in, and increase pro-Empire rhetoric.” Zarkon shifted in the throne. “I think the Blade of Marmora allowing others knowledge they possess the Lion is a means to sway these factions. A likely taunt to me they have what I seek.”  
“It will be yours, Sire.”  
“It will.” Zarkon relaxed the chain.

 

“Haggar still struggles to mine the Altean databanks. It has corrupted as our systems have updated.”  
“Do you require Lieutenant Haxus?”  
“His skills would be of use. Commander Gnov will be putting out a communication in due course for other recommendations. I am assigning the team to her so she can focus her efforts elsewhere.” He motioned to Champion, sat diligently beside the throne. Sendak noted the bruise, the raised skin around his shoulder and then the partial scar at his side. They were fresh. He would need to pick Ulaz's brain about this.  
“When should I assign Lieutenant Haxus over?”  
“Within the next two movements or less.” Zarkon studied Sendak carefully; he'd noted the subtle twitches of his ears when Champion either moved or squeaked in relation to the chain.

 

Sendak watched Champion move with a click of his Emperor's claws between his legs. The white patch was notable now, and the yellow framing his grey pupils something that gave him pause.

 

“Regarding Yastara, I have come to a decision.” He felt his jaw clench.  
“At present he is not within my ownership, surely you do not-”  
“He will be once Haggar has finished,” he brought a hand under Champions jaw, jugular exposed, “you have not abused your position to see him, and have made no errors through distraction.”  
“Your orders are absolute, Sire.” Zarkon nodded slowly, sinking his claws into the sides of Champion's jaw. He wasn't piercing the skin, yet.  
“I commend you for breaking him. He has become _incredibly_ pliant of mind and will, to the point I would consider him worthy of becoming a concubine if not for his other uses.” Sendak _knew_ he gave himself away when Zarkon's lips twitched.  
“He owes me a life-debt, and his body is payment. Your situations are similar, do you not think?” He watched Zarkon withdraw his hand and lean forward. With an internal scolding, Sendak straightened himself. Gods, he wished Champion wasn't here for this.  
“I am just surprised that it has...taken so long for you to make your decision. My apologies for such impudence, Sire, you speak the truth.” He couldn't look at Champion as he said it.  
Zarkon's low rumble of approval rolled through his stomach as he rose from the throne, setting the chain lead to it before descending, “I wished to observe how you fared taming him. Any earlier input would have manipulated the results. My decision comes after much deliberation. Like yourself, it would remain in confidence.”  
“His usage would still remain as a weapon?”  
“Yes, and once returned, whatever personal usage you see fit, but with confidence you will not punish disproportionately.”  
“Of course, Sire,” Sendak bowed his head in acceptance, swallowing back any feelings of double standards that came from his words with a wash of thought-policing. He was _better_ than this; he shouldn't have these thoughts.

 

“Would you see to marking him?”  
“Yes. Now he is collarless,” he glanced back at Champion, “it seems others lack restraint.”  
Sendak stilled, jaw clenched even tighter. There were things he'd heard and had confirmed by Gnov; but physically seeing Champion in this excessively passive state, marked more then he would have allowed, made his hackles rise. A hand gripped his shoulder.  
“Know those who have acted out of line have been punished,” he pointed to the shoulder, “for that, Haggar brought her retaliation.”  
“ _Haggar_?” Sendak frowned between Zarkon and Champion, “ _what happened?_ ”  
“Commander Trugg did not do her job. Her and those who did nothing felt Haggar's wrath. They have caused her more work.” The grip tightened on his shoulder, “I **order** you to not engage.”  
Sendak merely nodded, exhaling sharply. He _wanted_ to check his body to see the extent of the damage, wanted to shout at him for being so _stupid_ for trying to kill himself, yet wanted to keep him within arms reach; safe at his side and away from anything that sought to touch what was _his_. As Zarkon motioned for him to follow, taking Champion's lead, Sendak felt at odds within himself over his duty to serve but irrational desires to protect what was his. He watched the tail from the corner of his eye sway from side to side, and for the briefest of ticks, he dreaded seeing how passive he'd become.

 

-

 

Both Sendak and Champion should have left their anxieties and awkwardness at the door. It wasn't like they were unacquainted with each others bodies, and irrespective of Sendak's ownership, it was still revoked. For all intents and purposes their roles, to him, was of equal footing. He took Champion by the arm, pinning it behind his back, and pressed him against his chest as he carded his claws through the two-toned hair as a means to keep him within the passive, obedient head space that he could sense was starting to crack.  
“You have done nothing but behave, _kragna_. Do not give me reason to regret my decisions.” He felt Champion's body tense against him before he released a shaking breath. Zarkon let go of the arm to rub against the grafted patch. Between him and Sendak, they would cause too much damage to Champion if they took him together, and angering Haggar was a pointless endeavour. The alternative was simple; Sendak would receive. A reminder around control and property would do him good considering the tension radiating from his body.

 

“I am allowing _kragna_ to loosen you up. You are tense, Sendak.”  
“ _What_?!”  
Shiro snapped his head back to Sendak; his eye wide and posture rigid as he looked between him and the Emperor. The Emperor loosened a low growl, planting Shiro down into the sheets.  
“Your positions are presently equal. You deny my order?” He took Sendak by the throat, dragging him forward. Shiro watched as Sendak choked out some reply.  
“I am honouring Haggar's request of no further damage, my mark non-withstanding. It would do you good to comply.” He shifted, pushing Sendak down into the sheets, a sharp glint in his eyes until Sendak's body wilted.  
“It is not as if this is your first time, nor will it be your last,” the Emperor pressed his teeth against his ear as his grip on his throat eased.  
“ _Kragna,_ get what you need and prepare him. Make sure Sendak enjoys it.” The Emperor glanced at Shiro, and with a bow of his head, he moved quickly.

 

None of this felt real as he watched the Emperor grab Sendak by the ear and ease his cock into his mouth. It felt like watching how Sendak treated him. In no reality this made sense, not that their tension had helped matters of keeping him in his head space. Still, as he slowly lubed up his metal fingers, he knew how to fake the obedient little pet space after it was drilled in so hard; knew at this point he was along for the ride.  
It was probably an illusion. One of the ones he'd been warned about. Maybe a dream? Who knew. _He raised his hand to his Emperor, who gave him a curt nod. He carefully slid his fingers between Sendak's ass cheeks, feeling out the area he'd vaguely imagined in some old dreams when he was angrier and less informed. He loosened a growl when he felt Sendak tense, and after working out where exactly his entrance was, shoved two fingers inside straight down to the knuckle. With his human hand, he gripped Sendak's thigh to spread him open. Like he imagined, Sendak resisted, but what happened in his head was fine; it's what everyone had kept telling him about dreams he had._

 

_The Emperor praised Shiro for being assertive; he said Shiro could be as rough as he liked; Sendak could take a lot. He watched him tighten his grip around Sendak's throat, and made a small whine of understanding back, picking up the pace with his fingers. Sendak made some noise from the back of his throat. Hopefully one of enjoyment. Judging from the way his fingers met resistance, he was tightening around the strokes. He must be enjoying it. Shiro eased a third in, raising Sendak's thigh. He nipped the flesh, grinning against short fur as Sendak twitched in his hold. It was all just wrong; the whole idea of Sendak being anything like a concubine was ridiculous – he and the Emperor just fucked sometimes because of mentorship stuff. Sendak would never yield to this so easily – the Emperor would know that._

 

“ _He can take more than that, kragna.”  
_ _Shiro nodded, brushing his face against the fur as he pushed another finger in. He let his eyes trawl over Sendak's back and followed the curve of a new scar that looked almost symmetric in design to the other. Absently he thrust his fingers harder, watching the muscles tense beneath the fur. For a tick he felt this whole set-up too familiar and loosened a small growl, nipping the thigh again. He was imagining the early quintants with Sendak, rehashed into this. He ignored the jolt as he pushed his thumb in, flexing metal fingers out as far as he could. Sendak made another noise, then choked on the Emperor's cock, and for the briefest of ticks Shiro felt satisfied with that response, so he pushed his hand in, rotating his wrist._

 

If he had the courage to ask, Sendak would have the entire incident purged from his mind if he didn't feel ashamed. He'd happily flip Champion off him and put him back in his fucking place, but he would be wrong to deny that Champion was doing what _he'd always wanted_. He was complying. He was respecting and listening to their Emperor. Sendak wanted to be happier about this, but as claws dug into his cheeks and Champion's hand inched deeper, all he could do was endure this humiliation. If he hadn't of reacted like he did, if he'd been able to _speak_ to Champion before all this happened, he'd feel more relaxed; unhappy at the position, but he was never truly happy when it was like this. He spluttered around the cock in his mouth. Whatever happened to Champion must've been _bad_ to warrant this level leniency from Haggar, Zarkon, _and_ the order to not engage.

 

Sendak was finding it progressively harder to keep his focus on tending to the Emperor. Champion's roughness was starting to move from a dull ache to a just as dull burn, but the sharpened teeth against his inner thigh was irritating, but not as much as the throat noises Champion was making – he had no idea if this was arousal or amusement. He frowned up at the Emperor when he was kind enough to withdraw himself and motioned his head backwards, body twitching at another sharp intrusion.

 

“ _I told you to loosen him. You will not cause additional damage.” The Emperor motioned to the burn marks Shiro made down his side. He looked between them, Sendak's irritated face, Zarkon's impassive one, and then his hand. He licked his lips when he glanced back up, lips twitching. He'd have to speak.  
_ “ _It's hard to gauge, Sire. I'm only trying to make sure Sendak enjoys himself, and I'm really out of practice.” His lips tugged upwards as he stretched Sendak open a little further. “You said he enjoyed roughness, and I need to compensate,” He dropped Sendak's thigh and motioned to his own dick, “since I'm expecting some bovas-shit response of 'I can't feel it'.”  
_ “ _You speak.”  
_ “ _I do. I can't stay in that head space when you ask me to do this. Can't whine like a dog...kragna...whatever, with my hand a few inches deep in Sendak's ass. In my twenty-five? I don't know how old I am now, deca-phoebs of living, I have fisted no one, and never expected it to be him.” Shiro withdrew his hand, metal streaked with lube. He wondered if this was space weed as he glanced up; Sendak's single hand was coiled up in the sheets, but he still looked like he'd break his jaw if he could. Zarkon, who in reality would probably have him pinned into the sheets or punished him for speaking disrespectfully, was sat as unreadable as ever. He should apologise to dream Zarkon before his brain ran off into a nightmare. But gods, having some semblance of control was nice._

 

“Sorry that I broke character. You just asked too much, Sire.”  
Champion's eyes and body language always gave him away. He'd seen similar looks before, and like usual he would observe and report to Haggar, providing it didn't require immediate intervention. Even though his words were crass, he was _technically_ complying; not flighty or panic-ridden as he had been in the past.  
“Perhaps. You still comply, but curb your language.” Champion offered him a soft smile and a bow. He glanced down at Sendak, absently rubbing his jaw, then back to Champion.  
“Continue to loosen Sendak up.” He dragged him up against his chest, ignoring the irritated growl.  
“Yes, Sire. I'm sure he'll enjoy it,” Zarkon couldn't detect any hint of pettiness or malice as he spoke, “but what's a little pain, right? Gotta make sure I do a 'good job',” he watched as Champion shifted Sendaks thighs apart, wrapping an arm around his hips. He pressed his cheek into his fur and rubbed against it gently.

 

“Stop being irritated, I've missed you.” Champion's fingers brushed against his cock as he made a warm hum.  
“Would you just _get on with it_.” Sendak growled, eye catching Zarkon's for a few ticks.  
“ _Fine_ ,” he felt it push in, unsure whether he'd preferred a little warning or not. His eye twitched from how the piercing dragged against his insides until it came to a stop. He clenched his jaw tight together; letting his focus bore through the wall as Champion sharply pulled back and thrust in with _considerably_ more force then he was expecting.  
“I get you're probably hating this, but relax. You're really tense and I want to make you enjoy this. S'okay if you're a masochist,” he felt Champion cuddle up against his body, lips against his spine, “I don't think any less of you. You don't need to feel embarrassed.”  
Sendak felt Zarkon's chuckle in his gut.  
“I am not a masochist _or_ embarrassed.” He growled, brow creased as he tried to ignore the strange sensations.

 

 _It was like seeing how he was early on reflected back. Maybe that was what he had to work out to break the spell? Then he could wake up away from what was fast becoming the most awkward dream sex of his life. He'd never have to consider this again and forget, even if Sendak felt really good inside – especially when he tensed.  
_ “ _No, I get it,” Shiro purred when he thrust in, feeling Sendak shiver, “you don't want to admit it's enjoyable because it's hard to. That's what I used to struggle with too.” He bit his lip when Sendak tightened around him, “I mean sure, I've thought about this plenty – doing what you did to me.” For emphasis, he grabbed Sendaks hair and pulled back sharply as he thrust in, earning a cracked snarl. “Just I'm not as angry about it because you've been genuinely kind to me.” He buried himself back into Sendak's fur as he thrust in, small moan escaping his lips as he lazily palmed at Sendak's cock, rolling the precome around the head with a small smile on his lips._

 

“ _I said I missed you, and I'm sorry that got you in trouble because of my mistakes. It happens more then it should, and I know you hold the Emperor in such high regard, and I understand why you get angry at me, because you don't want him to think you're weak. You never said it, but I can tell, 'cause it's how I feel with you both. I don't want you or the Emperor to think I'm broken beyond repair. Maybe it's sad, I dunno, but I just want your approval; to serve the Empire...be accepted as not just a glorified fuck toy. One quintant I might get it, and maybe I'll tell you for real.” He couldn't help the laugh that left his lips._

 

“ _Explain 'for real'.” He glanced up at Zarkon's frown and cocked his head to the side, snapping his hips back.  
_ “ _When I'm awake. I'm hoping I'll wake up soon, Sire. This dream or illusion is weird – like you have to admit, this couldn't happen in reality. I mean,” he patted Sendak's shoulder, “you'd have broken my jaw or told me to shut up by now, and there's no way you'd let me do this either. Like sure you feel amazing, but I can't actually imagine myself agreeing to do this.” He frowned at Sendak's brooding expression, then back at the Emperor, eyes evaluating him.  
_ “ _Are humans this frank in dreams?”  
_ “ _Sometimes, Sire. Mine's been weird lately – loads of metaphorical and symbolic things. When I think back, I think they relate to stuff going on here. I just wish it was more simple, less stressful.” He brushed his hand along the burn scar and let out a long sigh, “I hope it's healed up alright.”_

 

There was no deceit in Champion's appearance or tone, but Zarkon could not discount the sincerity of his words and actions. Although naïve and sentimental to a sickening extent; he would concede that under no prompting, duress, or feverish desire, Champion had expressed his desire to serve and sought integration. He glanced to Sendak, who was stuck between his obvious discomfort at the proceedings and by the looks of it, calculating. Zarkon swiped the droplets of blood away from his lip as he tilted Sendak's face up.  
“I need to speak to Haggar. Finish here and clean yourselves up. Do not harm him.”  
“Yes, Sire.” Sendak muttered, brow twitching as Zarkon shifted him up. He gave Champion's shoulder a squeeze before moving from the room. Simply ordering him from the state wouldn't work, but Haggar would need to answer as to why his perception of reality had shifted so drastically.

 

“If you want, you can fuck me.”  
“As much as I would _prefer_ to, the Emperor gave you orders. I will not disobey them.”  
“It's shit, isn't it?”  
“You speak too much and I cannot stand your pacing.”  
“Like you can talk with all the times you've monologued at me.” Champion chuckled into his fur as his hips snapped forwards. Sendak translated the pleasurable twinges into low growls when he couldn't suppress the noise, mind still mulling over Champion's words.

 

“Earlier. Do not speak again like you understand me.”  
“Well aren't you just taking out all your pent up frustrations and lack of control that's...clearly been over thousands of deca-phoebs out on me and others around you? I get that, Sendak.”  
“ _Really_? Tell me, what _exactly_ do you get?” He felt Champion pause. Again.  
“Seeing you just submit so easily. You're scared of disobeying the Emperor when he's held you to a high standard. Just like you do with me; you put me in situations where I'm set to fail, but because I want your approval, you use that as a motivator. Did he break you like that too?”  
“ _What are you suggesting, slave?_ ” Sendak snapped his head around, lips curled back at the _implication_ that he dared make. Altered reality or not, he would **not** be so disrespected. Just the audacity to make such _claims_!  
“Jeez no need to be rude. You're angry you're made to do this, like I've been angry when you forced me to do things. I mean, haven't you accepted your place? It's shame, isn't it? You don't know if you're a victim or whether you really wanted it. Do you hurt me so someone knows how you feel? Do you want someone to become like you so you don't feel so alone? Is this your attempt at reaching out, because I'm listening.” Champion's twitching eyes told Sendak all he needed to know, but he was not going to let the ravings stir him to physical reprimand. If Champion thought he could try and make Sendak submit any lower than he had this quintant – no matter what truth clung to his words – then Sendak was about to repay it a thousand times over.

 

 _With a buck of his hips, Sendak knocked Shiro back into the sheets. He grunted; Sendak hadn't thrust hard enough to shatter anything but enough for him to feel pain, which in itself was weird. Surely he shouldn't? His thoughts were broken when a shadow loomed over him, and he glanced up to find Sendak's lips in a tight line, gaze trained on him. Sendak wouldn't hurt him; not in this dreamscape. He followed the hand that curled around his right shoulder; press tight enough to bring back the ache but not enough to bruise.  
_ “ _Do you honestly think your mentally bereft ravings have any weight? You think you are perceptive, when in fact your own mind continues to degenerate?” The hiss was low, terrible in his ear.  
_ “ _You don't like it because I'm right.” Shiro kept his gaze locked with Sendak as he was pushed down beneath his weight.  
_ “ _You? Right? That in itself is laughable. Your perception on reality has finally come full circle; to believe that the Emperor and I as mere figments of your mind. It will bring me no end of joy watching what little colour drains from your face when the Emperor marks you and the realisation is mapped across your body that you. Cannot. Wake. Up.”  
_ “ _I will wake up. This isn't real.”  
_ “ _Are you sure, slave? Are you truly certain you can trust yourself? Because let me tell you,” Sendak leaned down on one hand over him, “I do not believe a word that leaves the lips of a creature with a martyr complex. You reject your own responsibilities when others around you accept them. Yet, you know how to act like a victim, garner pity.”_

 

“ _You're hilarious, you know that?” Shiro snorted, “I've made decisions and accepted plenty, just like I've been ordered to.”  
_ “ _'Ordered', you say? Let me ask this; if you were not ordered to do anything, what would you have done, hmm? Would you have just cycled through your various facets of yourself for different people and keep blaming others for the suffering you cause and even ask for?”  
_ “ _What's your deal with picking faults with every part of me?” Shiro grabbed Sendak by the fur either side of his cheeks, twisting his fingers through the purple strands, it was just like his head to keep doing this to him, trying to bring him down, “because by the sounds of it, you know all this too well yourself. You must know how to play the victim, right? All the times you've tried to shift the blame to others. Maybe you're projecting onto me – why you blame me for all your mistakes because you're a spiteful and petty fuck.”  
_ “ _Project what? You're lesser-”  
_ “ _Oh yeah, but not enough for you to tighten around my dick. Was it that good, Sendak? Did it stir a little something? Maybe you like feeling like filth – equal to someone like me?” Shiro tugged his face down hard, teeth bared in a wide grin. “I won't let you turn me into a bastard like you.”  
_ “ _Really?” Sendak's breath was hot against his face, “because considering all your complaints of me taking you as mine early on, what was it? I raped you. At what point did you consider my consent earlier? Did I seem willing? By your own standards, are you not as bad as me?” The spittle was hot against his skin._

 

“ _Don't even try convincing me that was real. In dreams and illusions you can do as you please. Don't act like any of this hurts.”  
_ “ _What a terrible excuse. Are you that much in denial about your capacity to harm others you believe yourself incapable?”  
_ “ _I've killed in the arena and done more than you know!”  
_ “ _Really? And you do not need the support of some new little persona? That is what I mean when I say you cannot accept anything. Unlike me,” Sendak's lips twitched up, “I accept myself fully for what I am and relish in it. Right now you believe you have power here, it is why you speak so defiantly when we both know if this was in private,” Shiro ignored the tongue against his cheek, “you would be begging me to humiliate you like the passive little whore you are. So dependant, so weak-willed. Pliant to too many, and soon enough you will over-extend and break apart. Do you wish someone to save you? Perhaps Ulaz, who you exhaust. Know soon enough he will tire at the lack of progress you make, and then you will be alone. Perhaps,” another lick against his cheek, “you will continue to be a disappointment and attempt to end your life again. Maybe it is for the best,” Shiro could feel his anger swell in his gut as Sendak sneered at him, “because ultimately you are replaceable. I suppose you are filthy now – sullied by so many-”_

 

The pain that shot through his body was unbearable. A pathetic cracked squeak escaped his lips as he rolled over to the side, drawing his body inwards to protect himself. _The little dreck had kicked him_.  
“That's you and Haxus now.” Champion spoke slowly as he rolled to the side, ripping Sendak's hand away from his body and placing it against the inhibitor. Sendak growled low.  
“The Emperor-” the metal hand struck sharp across the face.  
“Don't insult me. This isn't to do with justifying my allegiances which we _all know_ the answer to; this is to drive it home that I'm not letting my head force everything poisonous it thinks into some two-dimensional version of you _when I know_ we're past this point. I know you're better then this, but you make such a good villain in my head.” He watched Champion crack his knuckles and sit up on his knees.

 

“Know I would never actually do this to you.”  
“Watching your mind realise you have will be recompense enough.”  
“Stop trying to convince me this is real. You wouldn't make me cave.”  
“If this was really your head, why would you still follow the Emperor's orders?” This was one thing he had been curious about.  
“Because, my dear sweet replica,” Champion hissed as he thrust a hand between Sendak's legs, metal fingers digging in so hard to his hyper-sensitive genitals, Sendak snarled out, “no matter what, his orders are absolute. Besides, isn't this what you've all wanted?” Sendak scowled as Champion pushed his legs apart and metal fingers found their way once again inside.  
“I've been broken, reformed, and still reconditioned,” he growled, glaring daggers at Sendak, “yet no one can decide just how I should be and act. What does it matter when everyone gets to see _what they want_?”  
“Here you are so concerned with how you appear to others that you continue to let yourself self-destruct. Your ability to make your own situation worse is impressive. Decide yourself, like you have to force yourself upon me, what you are and embrace it.”  
“I don't even know what I am any more.” Champion stilled, tone dipping. If Sendak had the capacity this quintant to feel anything except fury, he may have tried to soothe him and wouldn't have to dredge so much he had been savingfor other occasions.  
“A tool for the Empire. Nothing more, nothing less.” He kept a cold gaze on Champion, who's face slowly shifted to a strange one; part-acceptance, part-defiance.

 

He didn't speak when he withdrew his fingers, nor when Sendak felt the push of the piercing run sharp along his insides. He was likely playing in to whatever narrative Champion had created by not speaking, but at this point there was nothing left to say. Champion had decided this himself, and if he was to be believed, this was an action he was entirely capable of making by his own volition. He'd honed it enough in the safety of his mind. It removed some of that weak tenderness the others seemed too fond of. In bemusement he watched, eyes twitching at the roughness, before he fell back into his own thoughts.

 

The events of this quintant had given him new considerations, and despite his current situation, to say his claws weren't deep under Champion's skin would be an understatement. He held the power to make or break him, and for once he would err from the latter.  
“To most, you would be a detestable creature undeserving of affection, but to your Commander,” at this Champion's pupils darted up and Sendak knew he held his attention, “I am certain that he would be proud of you.”  
“What is there for him to be proud of?” His voice was coarse between pants.  
“That despite it all, you appear bent on appeasing him.” Sendak arched his brow at the snort and sharp laugh.  
“Of _fucking course I do_. Don't you try and suggest to me that I'm disloyal to him – don't insult me. I can be loyal to him, the Emperor, and the Empire all at once. It's going to be _my job soon enough_ to serve it in a greater capacity then entertainment, and when I can finally see him again? I'll let him know _how much I've missed him_.” Sendak merely offered a smirk back as he closed his eye. He had a good idea how to remind Champion of his position in mind already.

 

-

 

They had been so caught up debating Haggar's conditioning methods that both of them had got lost for longer than they should have. Usually Zarkon would consider it a non-issue, however it wasn't until Haggar had asked how long he planned to keep Champion for did he realise how much time had passed. While he knew neither would stray from his orders, Zarkon very rarely considered the subjective nature of feelings. Considering their last interaction, he would concede that too much exposure to each other after so long would invite conversation. Knowing how they could mutually rile up the other due to similarities, Zarkon was not surprised to find the two at odds. What he had not anticipated, however, was that Champion had removed the inhibitor somehow. Sendak had no wounds, whereas Champion's flesh hand was fresh with blood; tiny shards of glass stuck within the knuckles and a large jagged piece half-stained red gripped tightly.

 

“Explain.” Zarkon looked between them. Before Sendak could speak, the subject did.  
“Mirrors,” he shakily lifted the shard, “reflect what's real. He was reflected. Cameras are the same. Fucked up. Fucked up and,” he just stopped mid-sentence, the arm deactivating as it fell to the side.  
“He is realising the gravity of his words. Learning consequences will do him good.” Sendak muttered, a smug look about him.  
“What has he said?” Haggar glanced at him.  
“I am sure you will find out when you check his memories.” Sendak drawled, carding his claws through his fur. She turned her attention back to the subject as it drew its hands up, running the bloodied fingers through its hair.  
“He unwittingly gave us access to his interior. Thoughts and desires that would usually have him reprimanded.” Zarkon clarified. She watched him close the distance and prise the shard from his hand, crushing it within his grasp.  
“Check Sendak's memories, then after Champion is marked, take your leave.” Zarkon rumbled as he guided the subject from the room.

 

She motioned Sendak to sit as she approached and took his head in her hands. What was usually a painless process on her end was this time sharp. They both hissed out as she entered his head, and when she had caught up, Haggar let go like she'd been burned.  
“You are weakened.”  
“It is not your business, Sendak.” She hissed, rubbing between her eyes. “Yet again I see you bring about chaos.”  
“I merely refuse to be disrespected.”  
“No, it is not about disrespect,” she narrowed her eyes dangerously as she took his head in her hands again, “it is because you choose to deny your own faults and base nature, and through pure spite you chose to make my job more difficult. I have been methodical in my conditioning, and you have no _concept_ of the damage this will cause. It is like you _want_ me to fail, like you wish the subject to be terminated when you were so offended that I would clone it. If you feel vilified to play with lives on whim, then I will need to remind you of _your_ place, Commander.” She let her lips curl upwards as she leaned in close, voice barely above a whisper, “so enjoy recalling your biggest mistake and why the Emperor keeps you on such a short leash.” As she took Sendak under, his eyes wide in realisation, the subject's scream tore through her ears; straight to her very core.

 

-

 

“...scar over...minimal quintessence...your hands.”  
“...Emperor's mark?...no...understand completely...approximately a movement...”  
“Shiro.”  
That was Keith's voice. He cracked open an eye to find pale fingers grasping his, and bright eyes, pained eyes, looking at him.  
“I have to go with her but I'll see you soon. You got hurt pretty bad and I...I wanted to stay with you but they wouldn't let me. I tried to fight back but...” he frowned at their entwined hands, then Shiro's face. “Look just get better and I promise I'll be here waiting for you.” He brought Shiro's hand up to his lips, and planted a soft kiss there. His eyes were full of fire, and Shiro found himself clenching Keith's hand tighter.  
“I'm not gonna give up on you.”  
“Thanks, Keith.” He mustered a small smile before his body became heavy; muscles relaxing and eyes falling shut. Keith's face and soft hand were pleasant things to fall asleep to.

 

-

 

“I never realised we had such humble roots.” Hepta yawned, stretching out his limbs. They'd been up reading for vargas, and right now he'd just finished some notes.  
“Well, the clan was able to capitalise on bovas meat and, in turn that created jobs, brought the migrating clans, more skills; you know, enough that we were able to be a well fed collective on one of the best parts of Diabazaal.”  
“Still...we're descended from bovas herders.” He offered a half-smile and scanned the page. “I think what got me the most though was that we had a hand in Empress Kavra's assassination.”  
“I was shocked as well, but she drove the entirety of the south to rioting and terrorist strikes thanks to her austerity.”  
“The Dayak taught me the Southerners killed her in cold blood, but it wasn't them at all. Then here.” Hepta fished out a few journals and laid them out next to each other.

 

“All the matriarchs have something in common...and I'm not gonna lie but I find this confusing.”  
“What's that?”  
“Okay well take the one from fifteen-thousand deca-phoebs' ago? She bargained with Sendak's clan, yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“To protect everyone and still keep self-governance, she...sold herself to serve them. But then two generations later, the next one traded her life in exchange for that guy who accidentally stabbed that nobles' kragna...and the one during Ragnar's reign...agreed to be sold to leader of the biggest southern clan but then she _killed her anyway-_ ”  
“On Ragnar's orders-”  
“Yeah but wasn't Sendak's clan supposed to have helped?”  
“They were dealing with in-fighting at the time.” She sipped her leaf-water, realising how cold it was.  
“Urgh, what I'm trying to make sense of is like, why has pretty much every single clan leader _always_ had to submit or give something up whenever this has happened? Is that what you may have to do, Laddy? Can he...can he actually make you do anything?” He supported his face in his hands, carefully watching her.  
“He can, technically, but won't.”  
“Why?”  
“I used to babysit for him and Gnov. When mum was difficult he used to call her out on it. They both...put up with me visiting quite a lot, actually.” She frowned and yawned, before glancing back at the journals. “To answer, if I had to make a sacrifice for the clan, no matter what, I would. After all, what's our motto?”  
“Clan or death.”  
“Exactly. Leaf water?” She lifted her mug and Hepta nodded, arching his back as he stretched.

 

“My ass is sore.” Hepta whined.  
“It's what happens when you don't move for ages.”  
“Mmm. Oh yeah, I think I get why I like,” he leaned in, “non-Galra a bit now.”  
“Because we had plenty of alien-fuckers in the family?” She nudged him into the wall with her elbow, offering a playful smirk as he groaned.  
“Yeah, but...Nalquadian's...I mean I gathered they're long dead now but it's not just them. Laddy, why're we so...liberal?” His ears twitched at the uncertainty of the words he spoke, like he was hearing them leave his mouth for the first time.  
“Dunno. Just have been I guess. To be honest the ladies from Nalquad were pretty... _well_.”  
“Ew, I don't want to _think about that_.”  
“Then don't?”  
“You're _implying_ and I'm having _flashbacks!_ ”  
“How?” She laughed, “and it's not my fault you don't understand the concept of knocking.”  
“My young eyes were _traumatised_.”  
“You were literally eight-hundred or something _and_ had already had sex!”  
“Yeah but it was fifteen dobosh's of anxiety and...” he made some vague hand gestures, “it was not my finest varga.”  
“I know because you woke me and her up.” She laughed again as his ears drooped, gaze flicking away.  
“Y-Yeah well, uh, shut up?” He pouted, glancing at her and then offered his mug as he looked away again with a huff. She'd missed their banter, crude and embarrassing as it was.

 

“Going back, being clan leader is hard, and my decisions effect everyone so I need to be sure. This is weird, because _usually_ it's the leader who makes these choices but times are different now.” Ladnok paused, biting her lip as she gave him a once over.  
“Do I have to offer you something to prove how serious I am?” Hepta watched her nod slowly and swallowed.  
“I need you to be serious about what you pick. I get if you want to have a think-”  
“I'll get the accident purged, just like you've wanted. That way I'll,” he took a deep breath, “finally be able to focus on fighting again, which I'll need to definitely learn since I've been avoiding. My arms are getting recalibrated, and I realised that unless I can progress, I won't be able to access anything useful. How's that?” He took her by the shoulders. “For clan or death, I _can_ do this. I need you to have faith in me.”

 

Ladnok motioned him to follow and they returned to the room, settling down on the bed together.  
“I would need to see you do these things first. The fact that you would purge when you've been so defiant about not undergoing it...I can tell you're serious.” She glanced at his determined face.  
“I am serious, Laddy. If that knife has...chosen me or something, I need to find out.”  
“What are you planning on doing?”  
“I don't know yet.” He stared at his hands. “I know I still have Sendak to consider.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“The matriarchs that offered themselves up to servitude. I'm not saying I would go to him like, 'make me your personal bed-warmer', but if I can get close, and I mean really close...think of what intel I could get not just for us as a clan, but if I can find the Blade of Marmora. It's Zarkon's right-hand, you know?” She could sense the nervousness in his voice, but he...had a fair point, logically.  
“The difference here is that you've not been forced into it. I and our allies would not stand for you to risk harm and a smear against your reputation just for information.”  
“But you'd let me join what's the enemy and likely have to kill our fellow Galra. That doesn't make sense, Laddy.” He sat up straighter to study her.  
“I don't want to see you come home so hurt. Kal wouldn't be able to take it.”  
“Same applies to defecting.”  
“I don't want you doing it.” She answered finally, looking him dead in the eyes. “Actually, as leader, I forbid you from fucking him for intel at all. Just...please him and have done with it. Mine information from Ulaz, Haxus, Shiro...just don't engage with him any more then you have to.” She yawned again. “You still have more to read.”  
“Can I do it tomorrow? I need sleep.”  
“Same.” Ladnok knocked into his shoulder and the two tidied the room, leaving it as neat as when they came in.

 

“Before we go.” Hepta turned to find Ladnok stood at the dresser. He tilted his head and wandered over. “You will need to find a new home for your notebooks. I can't have them in the clan home.”  
“I know a place.”  
“Where's that?”  
“I can't tell you,” he offered her a small grin; there was another reason he liked the bottom of Central Command aside from the questionable bars and clubs, and that was ample storage facilities that came with a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. He had a few things stowed anyway, and he supposed he was due a clean out. He knocked into her shoulder, giving her a nuzzle.  
“You haven't said no.”  
“I need to talk to the others.” She nudged him back, yawning again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably see what I mean about the bottom sendak bit. There is...a hell of a lot at play going on there and oh my fucking /god/ it was hell to write and sfhdjghjdhgjjdgj. I won't lie, if you were like 'fuck yeah, take that commander asshole!' I won't blame you, but in the same breath, I won't blame you either if you think the whole situation is a sad one in of itself. If any of the lines made you giggle then go 'oh shit I shouldn't laugh', then honestly that's me trying to make it easier to write for myself. My favourite bit is the fisting comment, personally. This is the first and last bottom!sendak scene in this fic, and the next one, but I do actually like bottom!sendak because fuck top/bottom discourse.
> 
> BUT GUESS WHO IS GETTING A BREAK? FINALLY?   
> SHIRO GETS SOME SOFT ULAZ TIME BECAUSE DEAR FUCKING CHRIST.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and hopefully I should be back sooner! Can't wait to hear from you :)


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